Closer
by someonestolemyshoes49
Summary: Collection of unrelated one-shots full of Delena moments. Summaries for each inside! Chapter 28, based on the most recent episode. Elena doesn't switch off her emotions; what does she do? And will Damon be there for her?
1. Closer

**A/N: Alright-y! So, new VD was amazing. So...much...Delena...goodness. If you haven't seen it, maaajor spoilers ahead! **

**I decided to write a fic based on one (amazing) scene that I have watched multiple times since. It's just what I envisioned happening after we left Damon and Elena in the bathroom doing the vampire-dirty. At least, that's what it felt like to me. So guys, read, enjoy and don't hesitate to drop me a review. **

**Disclaimer; Still not mine. I've said this at least three times now. **

**Apologies for any spelling and/or grammar mistakes. And for my abysmal writing. **

_Closer. _

She didn't know why, didn't know what made her feel it quite so strongly, but she couldn't get past the need to be _closer. _

So she rolled with it and let her head fall to his shoulder, her fingers clutching his hand and his arm, holding him close to her. She could feel his breathy little sighs and gasps against her hair and his hand came up to cup the back of her head, cradling her gently against him. She pushed harder. _Closer. _

She felt him stumble back and crash into the wall, and she went with him, and this time, when she pushed herself against him, he didn't yield to the pressure. His muscles were an odd mixture of way-to-tense and gelatinous beneath her. But it wasn't enough. She had the unnerving sensation of wanting to be inside someone else's skin. _His_ skin.

So she pushed harder again. She knew she seemed desperate, damn near writhing against him, but at that point she no longer cared.

She let out a whimpering moan and withdrew her teeth, only to pierce the skin again in a different place and draw more blood from the wound. His breath caught in his throat behind her and she couldn't help the smile the spread against his palm. He choked out a groan and dug his fingers into her hair. She felt him adjust his feet on the floor, raising him higher against the wall before dropping back down to the same level. A mewl escaped the back of her throat before she had time to censor it, and she bit a little harder into his hand to stifle more noise.

"Elena." He whispered, and she drove harder against his body with her hip. That need to be closer was back with a vengeance and it was so intense it _hurt. _"Elena, you," he groaned, but forced himself to continue, "You need to stop."

And the world came back into perfect clarity. She released his hand first from her teeth, then from her white-knuckled fingers, and stepped back. What she hadn't expected was for his knees to give way beneath him. He sunk to the floor, and for the first time she noticed not only had he been gasping, but he was panting. And pale. So, so pale. _Oh God. _

"Damon?" She asked, feeling her stomach curdle unpleasantly as she watched him try to catch his breath. He waved his unmarred hand at her to brush her off, but his skin had taken on a grey tinge that made her worry ratchet up a level or two.

"Fine." He gasped.

"No. I-I'm sorry." She whispered, dropping down beside him. "I'm sorry." She brought her wrist up to her teeth, but he wrapped his fingers around it and pulled it away, shaking his head.

"I'm fine. Are you okay?" He wheezed.

She nodded, eyes wide as she watched him force himself shakily to his feet. She stood, too, ready to catch him if he fell again. She owed him that much, after all the times he'd done the same for her. He swayed a little and she grabbed the sleeve of his jacket as though it would solve all of his problems, but he steadied himself without her aid and walked to the sink to splash some water on his face. He inspected himself through narrowed eyes in the mirror.

"Well," He said, "Don't I look a pretty little picture."

Elena smiled a small, unsteady smile and walked to his side. She was struck once again by an urge that she couldn't quite place, but acted on instinct and leant against him, letting her forehead fall against his temple. He closed his eyes and pushed back gently, replying to the silent message she was trying to send him. _I am so sorry. _

"You did good." He says finally, lifting his head away from hers and turning to look at her. She turned to look at his reflection in the mirror.

"I nearly drained you. If you'd been human..." She shuddered. Damon shook his head.

"You stopped when I told you to. That's progress."

She scoffed and folded her arms. "Doesn't feel like it."

He took her shoulders in his hands and twisted her body to face him, looking at her sternly.

"If you beat yourself up over every little thing, you're never going to get through this. This is exactly why Stefan is so worried about you going on human blood. Has he told you that?"

Elena shook her head.

"Well there it is. He's scared. He's trying to change who you are because he's scared of what you could be."

Damon stepped away, then, heading for the door. He glanced at her, and at the look of puzzlement and concern on her face, and decided it was worth trying to lighten the mood.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I think its lunch time. Feeling a little...famished." He grinned at her, unlocking the door and resting a hand over his stomach. "Italian take-out, you in?"

She smacked his shoulder, hard, as she brushed past him, but smiled and replied.

"No thanks, I just ate in."

Damon's answering laugh was infectious. They walked together to his seat at the bar, and he surveyed the room as though perusing a menu. He turned to Elena with a lopsided smile, gesturing to a booth in the corner of the room where a gaggle of slim, blonde girls were whispering behind their hands to one another, eyeing Damon through lowered lids and fake lashes.

He grinned wolfishly and said with a kind of satisfaction that made Elena want to fume, laugh, cry, and something else she didn't care to dwell on, all at once.

"Table three looks good."

**A/N: Boom! Done and done. I know its short and, well...not very good, but I liked the idea, so I've uploaded it anyway. **

**Please please please drop me a review! And to anyone reading 'A Proper Goodbye' I am still writing the next chapter. It's half-term next week, so I promise I'll try and get more done then, if not before hand! **

**Thanks all. **

**Much love, **

**Someone x **


	2. You Did Good

**A/N: Oh. My. God. I love you, all. Thank you SO much to everyone who read and reviewed, favourite and followed the first story on here, Closer. As mentioned in the summary, I've decided to make this into a series of one-shots, that will most likely be modified versions of scenes from the show, or my take on what happened before/after a scene. I'll put a little summary for each one-shot in the authors note at the top of each one. **

**So, this story; set in 3x08, before the little Delena training scene. Less comforting Damon in this one, more light-hearted Elena. Same amount of fluff. Please read and review, guys, I love feedback! **

**Disclaimer; STILL not mine. A girl can dream. **

**Apologies for any spelling and/or grammar mistakes. I still can't write. **

"Damon, I can't do this." She muttered, defeated, dropping her hands to her sides, stake held firmly in between her stress-tightened fingers. Damon rolled his eyes at her.

"You've only been at it like...a day. Come on, one more try." He curled his hands in a 'come at me' motion and took a more defensive stance. Elena took a deep breath to calm herself, blew it out slowly, and mirrored him.

He offered her a grin, and said, "Bring it on."

She lunged forwards, keeping her hands before her face, muscles tensed and ready to act on instruction. Her feet carried her into Damon's personal space. She shifted her weight to her back leg and swung her other up in a round-house kick, intent on connecting with Damon's jaw to disarm him. A hand caught her airborne ankle and through it back to the ground. Elena used the momentum to her advantage and, as soon as her foot hit the floor, brought her back leg up, knee bent, and kicked out hard, the flat of her foot coming into contact with his chest.

The air flew out of his lungs, and he began to double over, but she brought a fist up in an upper-cut. Damon regained his equilibrium, though, and caught her hand. He spun her around and wrapped an arm around her neck, pulling her flush against his chest.

"You're dead. Again." He said. He grinned and released her. She let out an angry growl and threw the, yet again unused, stake to the floor. Damon rubbed his sternum and frowned at her.

"Good kick." He mumbled, but she wasn't listening. She'd crossed the room, and stood by the window with her back to him. She brought her arms up and crossed them over her chest, facing the window. Damon watched her closely and waited for her to come back, but she stayed exactly where she was, resolute. Damon's brow creased further.

"This is useless." She said, and he heard the crack in her voice. His shoulders sagged and he watched her with open mouth and wide eyes. She was _not _crying...was she? "It doesn't matter how much I try, Damon. I'll never be strong enough to take on a vampire. It was a stupid idea to begin with."

"Oh, stop with the self pitying." Damon groaned and crossed the room, moving to stand between her and the window, obscuring her view. She had tears swimming in her red-rimmed eyes. He stuttered a little. Damon wanted to yell at her, to tell her to cut the crap and get back to it. But she was watching him with wide doe-eyes and a soft pout, and he couldn't bring himself to shout at her. Instead he heaved a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Look, you were close, that time. I wasn't expecting the blow to the chest. And _that_ is the key to aaaall of this; the element of surprise. If you can pull a couple of moves like that, you can throw me off-guard. That's your opening."

Elena looked at him, and he could see how weary she was, but he wasn't about to let her quit yet, not when she was so determined to do just that.

"Come on."

Elena rolled her eyes, but picked scooped the stake up from the ground and took her stance. Damon stood across from her and bent his knees, tensing the muscles in his legs, with his arms at the ready. Elena let out a breath and watched him for a moment. She took a quick inventory; his hands were held near his face, in a typical protective position, prepared to block the blows as they come; his legs were tensed and ready to move the minute she did; his eyes were watching her every motion with interest, trying to predict her next step. She knew his technique well. He wouldn't attack her, he would simply defend himself. And to do that, he needed plenty of leverage. She looked to his feet and saw his back foot planted firmly on the ground. And she saw her opening.

She moved in with her hands first, one arm flying out towards his abdomen, and when he reached out to grab her, she pulled back and brought up her leg. He blocked the move with a quick smack to her calf, and she saw him put more weight against his supporting leg. _Just a little more..._

She held the stake tight in her right hand and lunged again, but back off without hitting him. Again, he leaned back, placing more weight on one leg.

Damon didn't know what hit him. One minute he was watching her arms, waiting for her to bring the stake at him, and the next he was on his back, a throbbing pain behind his knee and an Elena above him with one knee on his chest and the stake resting against him.

"What just happened?" He demanded, pushing her off him and sitting up, rubbing the back of his leg. Elena sat down beside him with a larger-than-life grin on her face.

"I did it!" She laughed, leaving the stake on the floor beside her and clasping her hands together in her lap. Damon frowned at her. He was happy that she'd succeeded, and he was even happier that she was happy, but his pride was severely wounded.

"Wha- how?" He sputtered. Elena stared, wide-eyed in disbelief for a moment, then gave him a grin cheeky enough to rival anything he'd ever seen from Katherine.

"You don't know." She stated, ecstatic. Damon rolled his eyes at her and huffed, stretching his legs out in front of him.

"If I knew I wouldn't have asked, would I?" He replied through gritted teeth. Elena couldn't hold back her glee.

"No need to be angry." She said, "You just got taken down by a girl. A _human_ girl, I might add."

Damon grumbled again, feeling like a petulant child, but not really caring.

Just as Elena opened her mouth to speak again, the door to the room opened and Alaric came in, a collection of items in hand and a bag hanging from one wrist. He stopped dead to survey the scene before him. A gleeful Elena sat cross-legged, nearly bouncing on the spot, and beside her, a huffing Damon sat massaging his knee.

"What the hell happened here?" Alaric questioned. Elena gazed at him, glowing.

"I managed to get Damon down." She said, trying to sound nonchalant, but pride seeped into her tone. Damon gave her a withering glance. Alaric grinned.

"Really?" He asked, laying down his items on the table. "How'd you managed that?"

"That's what I'd like to know." Damon mumbled.

Elena grinned at the two and launched into her tale. She told them how she'd waited until he'd shifted most of his weight onto one leg, and then taken him out with a swift kick to the back of the knee, knocking his support out from beneath him. Damon raised his brows in surprise. He pushed himself to stand and gazed at her, impressed.

"I gotta say," He said, crossing his arms, "I'm surprised you thought of it."

Elena regarded him with a wide smile and wider eyes, as though she were still waiting for something. Alaric watched on with interest, crossing his own arms and remaining silent.

Damon watched Elena as she stood, and when she looked up at him, her ecstasy had been replaced with something else; something that surprised him more than her impromptu attack on his joints. She was looking at him with uncertainty.

"What?" he asked. She narrowed her eyes at him.

"You didn't let me, did you?"

Damon scoffed.

"Elena, as much as I _want_ to say yes, I didn't let you do anything. I thought you knew me better." He pressed a hand over his heart as he finished the sentence, relaying mock hurt. Elena smiled at him.

"So I did good?" She asked, with a look that begged his approval. Damon threw an arm over her shoulders and pulled her to his side, with the intention of pressing a kiss to her hair. He hesitated with the action, though, and instead gave her a friendly squeeze, replying;

"You did good. Still not great, but good." Elena pinched his side playfully in response, but didn't pull away. "You were too loud, and your delivery was sloppy...but you're new, so I'll forgive you." He offered her a wink and a grin, but said nothing more, other than to expel air when she punched his abdomen.

Alaric watched them a moment, and when the pair didn't move away from on another, he clapped his hands together and rubbed them feverishly. Elena pushed hurriedly away from Damon's side and looked, a little guiltily, at Alaric. Damon swallowed and did the same. Alaric opened his bag and began laying photographs out over the table, and ordered the two to get back to training. They did as told, and he heard the shuffle of feet behind him as they continued fighting with one another.

With a sigh, Alaric eyed all of his pictures and began;

"These images tell a story..."

**A/N: aaaand we're back to the original scene. **

**Hope this was alright for you all? I know it's different in tone to Closer, but I felt this suited the scene better. **

**Please, drop me a review and let me know what you think! **

**Thanks all, **

**Much love, **

**Someone x**


	3. A Promise You Can't Keep (1)

**A/N: Okay, hello again! Once more, thanks for the response I've had! I love feedback in all forms, so it's always fantastic.**

**Spoilers for 4x03!**

**In this one-shot, I'm exploring Elena's new nature as a vampire. As Damon said in the most recent episode, she's discovering she's a lot more like him than she is like Stefan. This episode explores that a little. It starts off quite light-hearted, but a word of warning; it takes a maaajor tone shift. Set around the 'you staying for the show...' scene, and continuing from there. **

**Please read and review guys! Sorry if they seem out of character, I'm exploring their new side's. **

**Disclaimer; never gonna be mine, guys...if only. **

**Apologies for any spelling and/or grammar mistakes. **

"You keep alcohol in your _underwear_ drawer?" She asked, exasperated, holding up a pair of black boxers and raising a brow at him.

"No." Damon replied. "But you weren't looking for alcohol, were you?"

Elena swung around and froze, stuck between wanting to explain herself, and waiting for him to elaborate. Damon was unbuttoning his shirt as he spoke.

"Do you think I would actually leave the last remaining White Oak stake where any vampire could just walk in and take it?" He opened the last button and let the material fall open, wincing and eying the reddened wound on his chest. He frowned at it.

Elena, dazed for a moment by the sudden flash of smooth skin, regained herself and took the opportunity to change the subject. She raised her chin a little and spoke with a voice that betrayed absolutely no concern.

"What happened to you?"

"Hunter mishap." He replied, wiping the blood away from the wound and dancing his fingers over it. Elena continued along this line of inquiry.

"You know he was at my school today?" Elena moved across the room to stand before him, eyeing the wound with a questioning glance.

"Yep, Jeremy told me."

"Why were you talking to Jeremy?" Elena felt her blood boil. _If you get him in trouble..._

"Don't worry about it."

"Damon," She scalded, forcing her eyes to remain on his face while he pulled the front of his shirt away from his abdomen, "Don't bring him into this."

"Perish the thought he might actually be useful, Elena." Damon's voice dripped sarcasm. He pulled the black shirt away from his shoulders and off his arms and dropped it to the floor, moving his hands to the front of his jeans. Elena's eyes followed. He watched his fingers unbuckle his belt and, keeping his head low, raised his eyes to peer at Elena through his lashes. He smirked; her eyes had yet to leave his hands.

"You staying for the show, or..." He pulled the button open and lowered the fly of his pants, smirk widening as Elena gave him an indignant glare. She fought to drag in a breath and her eyes remained wide, and she knew she should leave, turn away, do _something_...but she found she didn't really want to. Another thought crossed her mind, and she held back a smirk of her own. _Two can play at that game..._

Elena, calm as she could be, crossed the room and sat down on the bed. She folded her legs, one over the other, crossed her arms over her chest, and watched him expectantly from beneath raised eyebrows. Damon froze for a second.

_Ooh, she's playing, _he thought, smiling inwardly. He pulled the zipper all the way down and watched Elena intently as he pushed his jeans off his hips and let them fall to the floor beside his shirt. He stepped out of the crumpled black material, eying his roommate through crystal blue eyes. It struck Elena for the first time that, for a man with such dark hair, his eyes were remarkably light.

Clad only in socks and boxers now, Damon stood near the bed, tapping the screen of his phone quickly. Elena's brows crept closer to her hairline.

"Not much of a show." She commented drily. Damon gave her a withering look.

"I don't do tricks on command," He said, still playing with his phone. "And I don't do solo performances." He winked at her, then, and dropped his phone onto the bedside dresser. He watched her, waiting for a response.

Elena didn't know what to do. She hadn't signed up for _this_. Still, Damon's bright eyes watched her. _How have I never noticed how blue they are before?_ She acted on impulse, tasting the mood of the situation and working with it. She toed off her boots and stood too, smirking back. Something flashed in Damon's eyes and he grinned. She studied his features for a moment. In all the time she had known him, all the hours, days, she'd spent with him, she'd never seen this look on his face before. And it was easy to identify; playful. Damon was feeling playful. And it was endearing, really. Maybe that's why his eyes seemed so..._alive. _

So, Elena pulled her shirt out from under her skirt and slipped it over her head, leaving her upper body clad in a camisole. Damon flashed a look at her, as though daring her to do more. The gleeful gaze he sent her gave her the energy she needed to feel the same way, and she rolled her eyes at him, pulling her skirt over her hips and sending it to the floor, thankful that she had chosen to wear a pair boy-shorts that morning. Damon gave her a teasing round of applause.

"Bravo." He said, crossing his arms over his chest. Elena gave an exaggerated bow.

"I think we're about even." She said with a smile, feeling heat in her cheeks. _Can vampire's blush? _She pondered the thought for a moment, but only a moment. Damon, who had migrated across the room towards her, scooped her skirt from the floor and threw it at her.

"Now put that back on, Stefan'll go insane if he see's you, like that, with me." He winked at her, and she knew he was right. And suddenly, her playful mood vanished, and she was overcome with a horrible wave of guilt. It was so strong it knocked the wind right out of her. _Stefan. _She had completely forgotten about Stefan. Damon tended to do that to her, though. Sometimes he made her forget who _she _was, never mind remembering anyone else. She pulled on the skirt and sunk to the bed, her eyes blank and staring. Damon watched her as he pulled on a fresh shirt and jeans, but she didn't move.

His eyes were wide with confusion. One minute, she had been so carefree, and now...now she was barely breathing, watching the floor at her feet, but not really seeing it. Damon frowned.

"Elena?" He asked, doing up the final buttons of the new, equally black, dress shirt. "You okay?"

She didn't reply, only continued to stare. Damon let out a growl of frustration, and moved over to her, pulling her to her feet.

"Get up." He snapped, feeling irrationally angry. Finally she picked up her gaze, and glanced at him with wide, confused brown eyes. Damon nudged her towards his window, fully aware he was being overly rough. He pulled up the sill below the window, then lifted up a second panel, and beneath it lay a stack of old papers. Damon rummaged through them until his fingers closed around the object he was looking for. Pulling the stake out, he re-sealed the hiding spot and thrust the stake at her to take.

"Take it." He snarled, and Elena's eyes widened in surprise. She made no move to remove the object. "I said. Take. It."

Still, she refused. She shook her head and furrowed her brows, thoroughly confused.

"I don't understand-."

"You wanted the stake, take the damn stake."

"No," Elena said, "Not that. I don't understand why you're mad at me."

Damon dropped his arm to his side and looked back, exasperated. And then he couldn't keep it in any more. All the anger, all the frustration, and all the _hurt_ he felt came out before he had time to check it.

"One minute we're having fun, for the first time in _so long, _and the next you're moping in a corner because you think you've upset _Stefan. _You have no idea how many times you've made me upset. How many times you've made me feel worse than you've ever made Stefan feel, and how many times you've never cared."

Elena opened her mouth to reply to him, to argue, to apologise, _anything_, but Damon wasn't done.

"And I'm tired of it, Elena," He said, "I'm so tired. I've tried to hate you, I've tried to love you, I've tried to be your friend, your enemy, but no matter what I do, I always end up hurt." His voice cracked a little, and his bright blue eyes shone with a light that made her heart clench.

"So just...just take the stake, do what you have to do, and...and go home to Stefan. I'll always be around when you need me to be. But I'm just...just so tired of being needed, and not being wanted." Elena looked at him through teary eyes. "Does that make sense?" He asked, and she nodded, but she didn't want it to make sense. She didn't want him to be upset by her, to be hurt by her. She wanted that playful Damon back; that Damon with the crystal blue eyes so full of life for the first time in 150 years. That Damon who only looked like that for her.

"Damon..."She whispered, but he wasn't looking at her anymore. She didn't want to apologise to him. She didn't want to, because she can say she's sorry all she likes, but that doesn't mean she'll never do it again. All this time, she hasn't even realised she's been making him feel like this, so how on earth could she stop it from happening again? She dropped her eyes to the floor where their shirts lay, and picked up her own, pulling it on and tucking it into her skirt. Then she picked up his and handed it to him, wanting him to say something, anything, that would make him Damon again. A snarky, sarcastic comment, a cruel jab at his brother, an inappropriate, flirtatious offer. But he didn't. He took the shirt from her hands and muttered a thank you.

And she left, knowing he wasn't thanking her for returning his shirt. He was thanking her for making him no apologies, no promises, because it would hurt less if she broke a promise she never really made.

**A/N: Voila. I hope you all enjoyed it, drop me a review and let me know what you think. I love feedback! **

**Thanks guys, **

**Much love, **

**Someone x**


	4. Author's Note, Please Read!

**This is just an Authors note, sorry to disappoint!**

**Okay guys, I'm still adding one-shots to this, but I need some inspiration. So here's the deal; since I write for your enjoyment, you should have some say in what you read, write? So, you guys can PM me, or drop me a review, or a tweet or something, with a request for a one-shot, or an idea, or **_**something, **_**and I'll try and fill as many as possible. Look out for any one-shots outside of Closer, in case I feel like the ones I write don't really fit in here. To be put in this collection, requests would preferably have to be a scene you want me to expand on or something, because that's what I do best! **

**Anyway, let me know. My twitter is at the bottom of my profile if you wanna follow me, and send me a request on there or something. **

**Thanks guys, and sorry that there's no new chapter. Yet. **

**Much love, **

**Someone x**


	5. I'll Teach You (2)

**A/N: I've said it before, and I'll say it again. I f*cking love you, all. Like...unreal amounts. **

**This one-shot goes with the story arc I've created in chapters 3 and 5, and it actually comes between those two, just to confuse you all. I'll rearrange the chapters when I upload the next one-shot, so that they appear in order, but I just want to leave it as the most recent upload for now so people don't get too confused.**

**So, this one is filling a request by clois22, who is giving me the most awesome suggestions, I might add ;) It's based on the Delena scene at the end of 4x03, in which Damon prevents Elena from draining Matt. **

**Please read and review, guys! Credit where credit's due; clois22's idea, I just interpreted it my own way and put it into words. **

**Disclaimer; I. Own. Nothing. **

**Apologies for any spelling and/or grammar mistakes. **

He tasted so _good. _

Blood tastes like blood; it always has, and it always will. It's the same coppery, thick liquid that ran out of her gums when she knocked out a tooth at age five, and it's the same syrupy substance that seeped from her gazed palms when she fell of her bike four summers ago. But there was something about it that made her want more. And it disgusted her, the idea of not only having to, but _wanting_ to drink it.

She drank hungrily from the wound, and her mind shrank down to one narrow thought; drink more. She heard Matt's voice in the distance, and it sounded as though her were talking to her underwater, and that made her think of the night she died and the night he nearly died and that was the last thing she wanted to think about, so she shut him out.

Then he tried to pull away from her. _Not allowed. _So she forced him backwards until he hit something hard and unyielding, and she continued to take her fill. He was breathing hard, heart beating a mile a minute, and he was pumping _life_ into her. She was angry, not at him, but he was there, and she was there, and nobody else was around for her to take her anger out on. She sank her teeth hard into the flesh and ragged her head from side to side like a shark ripping its prey to shreds, sinking herself deeper into the wound.

And then he was gone, and she was standing blind, still unseeing and unhearing, but feeling. And she could feel the lack of flesh against her teeth. And that made her angrier. She lunged forwards with a hiss in the back of her throat, but strong hands met her shoulders and one word floated through the haze to reach her ears.

"Stop."

_Damon. _

He repeated himself, sternly, holding his hands up in a 'hold it' gesture. She felt her fangs shrink and the veins disappear, and the world came back into focus, and she saw Matt, blood dripping from a large open wound on his wrist, his face pale and shocked.

"Oh my God." She choked. "Matt, I'm sorry. I'm so – I'm so sorry. I...I didn't mean to." She gasped and the words came out as sobs, and Damon looked at her with a pained expression as though he wanted to come to her, to help her, but instead he turned to Matt.

"It's gonna be okay." He said, holding up his hands, "Forget what just happened. You came over, she fed a little bit, and you left. Now go home."

And he did. Damon watched him leave, then crossed the kitchen to stand by Elena.

"What have I done?" She asked, eyes following Matt's path out the front door.

"Nothing you should be ashamed of." He rested his hands on her upper arms when she wouldn't look at him, and it got her attention. She gazed at him with large brown eyes and blood still dripping from her chin. "You're a vampire now. You just have to learn the right way to be one."

Elena looked on apprehensively. She was never, _ever, _feeding again. But Damon continued talking.

"And I'm gonna teach you."

He brought a hand up to her face and brushed her hair away, resting his palm against her neck. She nodded at him, tears filling her eyes and her lip quivering.

"Come here." Damon whispered, barely audible, and Elena fell forwards into his embrace. He brought his hand up to the back of her head and held her there, her face buried in the crook of his neck. But she didn't sob. She wanted to, and no doubt she would once she was left alone, but until then she would hold back. Instead, she shook violently with the effort to hold it all in, and she sniffled and whimpered. Her breath shuddered out against his shoulder and he held her tighter.

After a few minutes she pulled away, wiping tears from her cheeks. There was a smear of blood on Damon's shirt where her chin had rested, and she unconsciously wiped herself with the sleeve of her shirt.

"Sorry." She said lamely, gesturing to his top. Damon waved her off.

"Don't worry about it." He said with a small smile. "You okay now?"

Elena nodded her reply.

"Good."

She glanced at the blood on the floor of the kitchen, and Damon saw it too, and he took a washcloth from the sink, wet it, rung it out, and wiped the droplets away. Elena gave him a soft smile of thanks. And then her brow furrowed.

"Why did you help him?" She asked, and Damon frowned at her. "Just the other week you were trying to kill him. Now you're saving his life. Why?"

Damon gave her a look that said '_isn't it obvious?', _and because it clearly wasn't, he elaborated;

"Because you would never forgive yourself if something happened. And you would never forgive me."

Elena sighed at him and stepped up to hug him again, and he took the embrace gladly, for once not questioning just what it all meant.

"Thank you." She whispered into his chest, eyes scrunched tightly closed. She inhaled deeply. He smelled so _good._ He made her feel warm and fresh and _alive_, and she swallowed hard against the lump in her throat because Stefan didn't make her feel like that. Stefan made her feel loved, yes, but he didn't make her feel so..._her, _anymore. And she needed that more than anything right now.

"I should go." Damon muttered against her hair, and she hugged him tighter. She didn't want him to go. "You should sleep."

Reluctantly, she pulled away. He watched her carefully as she gathered herself together.

"I'll talk to you tomorrow. About...about training, or teaching, or whatever." She mumbled, talking for the sake of talking. Damon smiled at her.

"Sure." He turned towards the door, but Elena called him back.

"Damon?"

He nodded to her, acknowledging that he'd heard her, and that she should go on.

"You're right." She breathed. "If something had happened, I never would have forgiven you."

Damon felt his heart constrict at her words and he couldn't bring himself to voice a reply, but she wasn't done.

"And I'm sorry for that." She gazed at him, willing him to understand her. "It...it wouldn't have been your fault. But, you know me, I just – I feel like I need to blame someone when things go wrong. Because the guilt of it being my fault is just...it's too much."

Damon wanted to tell her it was okay, that he understood, but he really didn't, so he kept quiet.

Elena watched him nervously, hoping for a reply, but the words sounded so much worse out loud than they had in her head. And from the look on his face, she knew she'd just made their situation a whole lot worse. _Oh, no..._

"Good night, Elena." Damon said, finally, turning for the door.

"Good night." Elena whispered back, her eyes dropping to the floor as the front door shut, feeling as though things between her and Damon were going to get much, much worse before they got better.

**A/N: Finished. As said in the authors note at the start, this bit comes between Chapter 3 and 5 (making it part 2 in that story arc). I'll probably shift them around when I upload the next chapter, but I want people to have a chance to read it first before I rearrange it. **

**Anyways, please drop me a review and let me know what you think, you guys are wonderful. **

**Thanks, as always. **

**Much love, **

**Someone x**


	6. Falling

**A/N: I am getting the most amazing feedback from this collection, I can't thank you guys enough. You really have no idea how much I appreciate all of you! **

**Okay, now I know this is a really long authors note, but I want your opinion on something, so please please please take the time to read it. **

**It was suggested to me in a guest review that I should end the one-shot collection and continue along the story-line of chapters 3 and 5 (in which Damon is mad at Elena, and it's her turn to make it up to him) instead. My proposition is this; I'm going to say yes, and no. No, I don't want to stop my one-shot collection, because I really love writing them, and people (seem to) enjoy them. But I will continue the story-line in the above-mentioned chapters, but in this collection, if that makes sense. Basically, whenever I upload a chapter that fits in with that story line, I'll put a number next to it in brackets to show that it comes next in the storyline. **

**Of course, I'll only do that if people let me know that's what they'd like to see. **

**And now, this one-shot. This was suggested to me .Ludwig, and she requested that I write a one-shot based on 2x12, when Elena is comforting Damon after Rose's death. **

**Disclaimer; Still not miiiine. **

**Credit to this prompt goes to .Ludwig! So tell her that it's amazing ;) **

**Apologies for any spelling and/or grammar mistakes, six chapters in...you'd think I'd have learned by now...**

He was so close, so close to tears and it made her heart break.

"I feel, Elena, okay? And it _sucks._" The words were spat at her, and she tried hard not to recoil at the venom behind them. "What sucks even more is that it was supposed to be me. Jules was coming after _me_."

Comprehension dawned on her and her eyebrows lifted unconsciously. _Oh, Damon..._

"You feel guilty." She stated, unable to keep the surprise from her voice. He opened his mouth to speak again, but she cut him off, feeling a sudden surge of irrational anger. "And then what, Damon?" She asked. He closed his mouth, and his lips formed a thin line. Those pretty blue eyes shone with unshed tears, and Elena had to work hard to get her next words out.

"What if it had been you?"

He had no reply, at first. He simply stared at her. And then;

"Go home. There's been enough doom, gloom and personal growth for one night."

Elena new exactly why he wanted her to leave. His voice was thick with an emotion he didn't want to share with her, and his lip quivered when he spoke. But he stared her down, waiting for her to do as she was told just_ once._ But she didn't want to leave. He shouldn't have to be on his own, not after this. Nobody should have to be alone after losing a loved one.

She looked into his eyes with a determination of her own, and what she saw made her breath catch in her throat. Crystal blue orbs were shimmering behind the build-up of water against his lower lids. _No, no, no..._

She wanted to tell him to stop being so childish and let her be there for him, because that's what friends do, but it didn't sound like something that would work on Damon. So she did the only thing she could think of. She stepped up to him and wrapped her arms around his waist, pushing herself flush against him and pressing her face into the crook of his neck. For what seems like a lifetime he did nothing. And then he was moving.

His arms came up, hesitantly at first, to hold her back, and he turned his face into her hair, inhaling a shaky breath. She held him tighter, encouraging him, letting him know that this was okay. His arms coiled harder around her. He was shaking so much, and she didn't really know how to make it all stop. But she wished she did. She wished there was something, anything, she could do to make this all go away.

"Damon." She whispered against his neck, and he shuddered. She unlocked one arm from around him and brought it up to the back of his head, weaving her fingers into his hair, hoping it offered the comfort she was desperately trying to give him.

His head was a mess. Thoughts, feelings, memories, were flitting across his brain, making his vision blur and pulse at the edges. It was too much. And then there was her, tight in his arms, breathing against his skin, stroking his hair. She smelled of coconut and vanilla and something else he couldn't place and he loved every second of it, but it hurt so much to be this close to her. And he wanted to let go, he did, but he had the horrible feeling that if he let her go the world would be pulled out from under him and he would fall, and fall, and there would be nobody left to catch him. Then he would hit the ground hard and have to work his way back up on his own, and he just didn't have the strength for that right now.

So he tried to speak, he tried to tell her that he was okay, that she could leave now, but the only sound he made was a choked cough and it made her squeeze him tighter.

He didn't know when it happened, but the next time he opened his eyes, they were on the couch and she was searching his face with concerned eyes, her brow furrowed and one of his hands clasped tightly in hers. His face felt wet, and his eyes felt far too dry. He hurriedly wiped the tears from his cheeks.

"I'm fine." He said, thankful that his voice was once again in working order. She nodded, but he could tell she didn't believe him.

"Do you need anything?" She asked him quietly. He shook his head. Silence fell between them, and his thoughts began to wander. _Fields as far as the eye could see. Laughter. Running. Her puzzled gaze meeting his. Swirling colour. Tear stained cheeks. What if it had been you?_

"At least I wouldn't be going through this." He whispered, and Elena frowned at him, trying to comprehend his meaning. "If it had been me," he added, "I wouldn't be feeling this."

Elena's gaze hardened on him.

"And death is better?" she asked, and he'd expected her to shout, but she sounded so broken and it made him feel guilty _again_. He couldn't think of a satisfying reply. Surely anything was better than this...

Mutely, he shook his head. She sagged with relief. It occurred to him, then, that she had been worrying that he would do something insanely stupid.

"Don't...don't scare me like that." She breathed.

It was dark outside, and Damon glanced at the clock just as it chimed eleven. He turned his gaze on Elena.

"Go home." He repeated, this time with less aggression. "I'll be fine."

"You promise?" She said, standing and picking up her bag. She was exhausted, and as much as she didn't want to leave him, she didn't know how much longer she could keep her eyes open. Damon nodded and a smile flickered on his face.

"I promise."

But as she closed the door, he felt the world tilt and he knew this was what he had been dreading. His mind spun dangerously and flitted up images, memories of his time in the 1860's, his carefree time when feeling upset and feeling angry and feeling guilty were mere stings to the conscious; a time before anger ate you up inside until nothing was left but the bitter need to be angry at something else.

He was slipping, and the one person he could count on to catch him had just walked out the front door.

Silently, he took his bottle from the bar and stalked out the house, not sure where he wanted to go, but knowing _exactly_ what he wanted to do.

**A/N: Aaaand we're back to the episode. This was kind of a scene change/scene extension that shows how Damon ended up drunk in the middle of the road** **at the very end of the episode. It also shows more comforting Elena, which we don't see enough of in the show, with regards to Damon at least. **

**I hope this is what you had in mind when you suggested it, and please, everybody, drop me a review to let me know what you think! **

**Much love, **

**Someone x**


	7. And It Hurt

**A/N: Okay! This one is a little different, being that it's all inside one characters head, instead of being what both are thinking like I usually do. The prompt for this came from two people; ****Ms.' **** and ****clois22, who both wanted some kind of adaptation of the same scene. **

**This takes place near the end of 4x01, where Damon and Elena fight and she reveals that all of her memories have come back. It's mostly inside Damon's head and alludes to the events between 3x22 and 4x01, as well as the events in 4x01. **

**Please read and review! And I'll give credit where credit's due, give a thanks to Ms.' and clois22 for the ideas! **

**Disclaimer; still not mine. **

**Apologies for any spelling and/grammar mistakes.**

She was angry at him. Again.

It seemed that all they ever did now was fight. So he shouted back with all the energy he could muster, which wasn't all that much, and he tried to get through to her just how much of an ass he was. _Maybe if she hates me, _he thinks, _it'll make this whole mess so much easier. _Because he's tried being the one to hate her. He's tried throwing all of his passion, all of himself, into hating every last little thing about her, but the problem was, he could find nothing to hate. Even now, when he asks her if having met him first would have _really_ made a difference, he can't bring himself to hate her for implying 'no'.

And now it's all his fault, again. _Yes, _he thinks, _I did ask you to make a choice. I was hoping, by some miracle, you would have chosen me. _But he knew deep down that it wouldn't have happened.

So he tried being angry at her. And that worked for him, until she died. Then he was left feeling miserable and guilty and hurt because the last thoughts he had of her were horrible and she was _dead_; the woman he loved was dead, and his best friend was dead, and the world sucked, and feeling it all sucked and he wanted to turn it off. But he had to see her first. He had to be sure.

Then Meredith had told him; she'd helped her. She'd _helped _her. Elena would wake up, he would have a chance to talk to her, to tell her he wasn't angry (even though she never really knew he was angry in the first place) and to tell her that everything would be okay. But that went down the drain, too, because Stefan never once left her side. She had brief periods of consciousness and each time she would ask the same questions; where am I? What happened? Is Matt okay? And then she would fall under again and sleep for a couple more hours. And all the time he sat in the corner of the room and hoped Stefan would leave her alone for five _fucking_ minutes so that they could talk.

And when she did wake up, he was mad again. But he wasn't mad at her. He was furious at his brother for giving her some stupid false hope that they would find a cure, and that she would be human again. To be honest, he was still furious with his brother for letting her die in the first place.

"If it had been you at the bridge last night, and not Stefan, and I had begged you to save Matt-." Her voice pulled him back from inside his own head, and gave him the opportunity to tell her exactly what he thought of the matter.

"I would have saved you!" He snapped, all his pent-up anger at his brothers stupid choice bursting forth, attacking the one woman in the world he's never been able to hate. "In a heartbeat, no question."

"Then Matt would be dead, because you couldn't let go." Her voice was thick and she shook her head at him, but he didn't much care right now. She was wasting her tears on him. "Matt would be dead!" She shouted.

"But you wouldn't be!" It was his turn to shout past the lump in his throat. "And you would have gotten to grow up, and have the life that you wanted, the life that you deserved." He gazed at her with big blue eyes then, willing her to understand that he was a jackass and that he was selfish and – _selfish. _"And I know that I didn't used to get that but I do now. And I wanted that for _you, _Elena, and I would have gladly given it to you and let Matt die because I _am _that selfish."

He stepped closer to her, a finger pointing accusingly at his own chest.

"But you knew that already." His voice dropped low now, talking beneath the ball that had filled his throat and choked his words, in a tone that put much less stress on his straining vocal cords. "First night's not all you remember."

She gave no reply, and he knew he was right. She remembered _everything. _How could he have forgotten about that? He'd poured his heart out to her that night, he'd told her just how selfish he was and he had been so sure she would never find out.

He turned from her, no longer wanting to look at her, and began walking away. But her voice called him back.

"Damon." She said, and it was soft and warm and it made his insides melt, but he didn't turn back just yet. "I – I remember. And you...you weren't being selfish."

That made him twist on the spot to look at her. Of course he was being selfish, wasn't he? But she was shaking her head.

"It was probably the most selfless thing you've ever said to me." She said. "Thank you."

But Damon didn't really want to be thanked. He wanted her to collapse under the weight of everything and fall into him for once, instead of his baby brother who always, always, got the girl, and he wanted to hold her and tell her everything was going to be fine, and he would be there and he loved her no matter what.

His chest hurt, and he looked at her with his own puppy-dog gaze, and she faltered in her resolve. Her hands came up to either side of his neck, holding his stare to her own. She was so _soft_. Eyes closed, he turned his head a little into her touch, where her right thumb brushed against his jaw.

"Thank you." She repeated. He opened his eyes and watched her, scanning her face for signs of anything more.

"You're welcome." He breathed, and reached up, taking her hands in his and bringing them away from his neck. He gave them a gentle squeeze and let her go.

And then she was gone.

He saw her meet Stefan and Rebekah, who were moving to aid Matt, and she hugged his brother hard. And it hurt.

* * *

The woods were dark and the wind whistled through the branches, but Damon trudged on through the mist and into the grave yard. He took a seat on the low bench and let out a deep, slow breath. The moon was high and bright overhead, and the grave yard had an eerie glow to it, but it didn't faze him.

In front of him, a rectangular grave stone lay against the ground with a name and date freshly carved into it. Damon eyed the letters wearily. With a slight scoff, a head shake and a soft sigh, he spoke quietly to the empty air;

"Hey, Ric."

**A/N: The end. I added the little bit with Alaric in at the end, because, well...I wanted to. I wanted some kind of insight into why Damon went to see him at the end of last week's episode, and what better reason than that he visits him all the time? So yeah, other than that random bit at the end, what did you think? **

**Drop me a review, let me know! **

**Much love, **

**Someone x**


	8. Back To Me (3)

**A/N: Hey-hey-hey! Okay, so this one was requested by SuperDensi427, with the idea of Elena being the one to have to fix things between her and Damon for once. He's not coming cowering back this time. It's set around the first time Damon helps Elena to 'be a vampire', but it's not all gentle touches and soothing words. It's not so much a continuation of chapter 3, but there are some elements of that in there, and it's definitely set after that one. Read to find out more... **

**Please, read and review! Credit goes to SuperDensi427 for the amazing idea! I just took it and did what I enjoy doing. **

**Disclaimer; I believe I've said this before, but just in case...I own nothing that you recognise. **

**Apologies for any spelling and/or grammar mistakes. Despite writing a lot of fanfiction, I still can't spell. **

"Alright," Damon said, leaning close to Elena's ear so as not to be overheard. "Scout out the competition."

Elena looked around the room, not in the slightest bit happy with what Damon was asking her to do. _I'm not ready for this, _she thought miserably, _not after what I almost did to Matt. _But Damon, being, well, typical Damon, was not at all willing to wait. He was still angry at her after the bedroom incident_._ His words rang out in her mind, clear as they were when he'd first uttered them; _I'm just...just so tired of being needed, and not being wanted._

"Urm." She mumbled, shaking the thought from her head and craning her neck to look further into the crowd. The Grill was packed that night, and Damon had thought it the perfect opportunity to throw her in at the deep end.

"Pick one." He growled. Elena frowned. She wasn't happy with angry Damon. Usually, when they argued, they'd give each other some space and it would all blow over. But Damon wasn't letting this one go. It occurred to her with a pang that she needed him right now, but she hadn't asked for him. She hadn't wanted him. And that is exactly what he was so sick of.

"Her." She said, finally, pointing to a small brunette in the corner. Damon eyed the girl up; she was around Elena's age, but very short and thin. Damon shook his head.

"She's too small. You'll drain her before you come close to getting your fill. No, pick again."

Elena glared at him but did as told, this time choosing a taller boy with curly blonde hair and a handsome face. Damon nodded in agreement. He nudged her shoulder and pushed her towards the group.

"Go get him." Damon said. "I'll wait outside. Bring him round back." Elena gave him a wide-eyed stare.

"I can't get him on my own." She said. Damon rolled his eyes at her.

"Of course you can. Go." And with that he left. Elena found the blonde-haired beauty in the crowd and made her way through the throng towards him, hoping against hope he would be persuasive.

Turns out, he wasn't.

It took her almost half an hour to get him alone, and when she asked him, with a flirtatious smile, fluttering lashes and a flick of her hair, to come outside for more privacy, he gave her an awkward laugh and decline the offer. So she resorted to a vampire's last option, and compelled him to come with her.

* * *

"Now what?" She said to Damon, stepping into the shadows around the back of the building with the blonde boy trailing her. Damon nodded in approval.

"Compulsion." He commented, "I didn't even teach you how to use it."

"Caroline did, at the memorial service."

Damon only nodded. The trio were deep in the shadows now, away from prying eyes, and Damon dragged the boy, with a force Elena found unnecessary, and pushed him against the wall. He looked at Elena and jerked his head towards her prey.

"Get to it." He said. Elena glared at him.

"So that's it?" She said, angry. "This is not helping me, Damon."

"What else do you want me to do?" He snarled. "Feed you again? Let you drink from my veins? And then what, Elena? Go through another three days of having you on my mind _all the time_, like last time? _Pine _after you? Cling to every little thing that lets me be near you, just to make the _want_ go away?"

Elena's eyes were wide with surprise. The boy was standing, back pressed to the wall, watching them with mild interest.

"Damon..." She said gently. "I – I had no idea." And it was true. She knew he'd said it was personal, and she knew she'd felt a little...clingy, for a couple of days afterwards, but that was natural when somebody saved your hide, right? Or is this what Stefan meant? _It certainly meant a lot to Damon. _

"Well now you do. So just drink."

She nodded to him, and moved over to the blonde, who was now watching her with apprehension. She caught his gaze in hers. "You're going to stay still and silent, until I tell you you can leave. And then you'll forget you ever met me." The boy nodded to her, and she glanced at Damon. He was still fuming, but he gave her an encouraging nod.

It was then that she began to panic. What if she went too far? What if she killed him? _No, _she thought defiantly, _Damon won't let you. _So, with as much confidence as she could gather, she sunk her fangs into his neck. She felt him gasp, but other than that, he made no noise. And it felt good. It tasted...well, it tasted as blood always tastes. It was odd, really. She'd always imagined that vampires must taste something new and exciting in blood, but no, it held the same metallic tang as it always had. The difference was, vampires enjoyed it.

And so she drank, drawing the warm liquid from the wound. But not for long. She moved away after only a couple of pulls and licked her lips.

"More." Damon said. She turned to him, surprised. "Drink more."

"No, I'll drain him."

Damon shook his head at her and stepped forwards. His hand came up to the back of her neck. "Don't be ridiculous." He said, pushing her closer to her victims throat, hard, "take more."

Elena tried to push away, but Damon was stronger.

"No." She mumbled, frightened.

"More." Damon snapped.

She latched back on to the wound, drinking more, but pulling away again. Damon's hand pushed her roughly back. Again, she took her fill from the boy. Damon held her in place. She began to panic and shook her head, but he didn't release her.

Anger flooded her veins, and the fresh blood in her system gave her strength, and she swung around and pinned Damon to the wall, hissing unconsciously in his face. She could feel blood on her teeth and her muscles were straining, but she held him to the wall by the throat, keeping her fangs bared.

With a flick of his wrist he knocked her hand away from him and moved over to the boy. He'd sunk to the floor by now, a hand pressed over the wound, his face pale. Damon crouched in front of him and examined him for a minute, before sinking his teeth into his own wrist and pressing it to the blonde's mouth. He drank readily, afraid to say no, and after a moment Damon let him go, telling him to go straight home, and speak to nobody.

After he'd vacated, Damon stood and turned to meet Elena, who was glaring at him.

"Why would you do that?" She said, her voice thick. He looked at her, but gave no answer. "I said, why?!" She shouted the words at him, speeding to him and pushing him hard in the chest. He staggered back a few steps but regained himself quickly, and shoved her back.

"Stop it." He said, and the calm in his voice made her freeze. "Stop it." He repeated.

"You...you said you'd help me." Her voice was choked, now, but Damon shook his head at her.

"Don't waste the water-works on me, Elena. Now listen," He advanced on her, and she backed away until her shoulders hit the building walls. Damon invaded her personal space and lifted his hands, holding them against the brick on either side of her shoulders, barring her in. "If you can fight me off, you can fight yourself off."

Elena glanced at him. What he'd said made sense. If she could physical throw Damon from her, make him stop, she could, surely, stop herself. His eyes travelled over her face; her eyes, nose, cheeks, lips. He wanted to apologise, to beg her to forgive him, to tell her he wasn't really angry. But he was. And he didn't want to be the one running back with his tail between his legs, like always.

"It's your turn." He murmured. Elena frowned at him.

"My turn to what?"

"Your turn to come running back." He let his hands drop and stepped back, giving her room to leave.

"I-." She swallowed and tried to meet his eyes, but he kept his gaze too low. "I don't understand." She said softly. He looked at her, then, and she met a pained stare.

"I'm sick of running back to you." he said. "I – I love you. That won't change. But I'm done being the one to come back. If you want me, my friendship, my _anything_, you need to start making the effort."

"Is this about – about what you said earlier?" She asked him, and he nodded in reply. "Damon...that was just...you..." But she stopped there. There was no point on laying blame on him when she knew fine-well it was her own fault he was upset with her.

"I don't know how to do that." She whispered, pleading with him to understand. She'd never had to go running back to anybody before, they always came to her.

"Then you'll have to learn." He breathed, and it was pained, but he wasn't going to help her with it. "I'm not abandoning you. I'm not going to leave you to deal with this," He gestured to her bloodied lip and reddened eyes, "by yourself. I'm still doing this for you, even though I _know_ that at the end of it all you'll go home to Stefan." He scoffed a little there, but continued in a serious manner. "But...but coming back to me? That's something you're going to have to figure out on your own."

"What if I never work out how?" She asked, desperate now. Damon didn't reply to her, and that was answer enough. He dropped his gaze to the floor and turned away.

"We're done for tonight." He said. "I'll see you tomorrow."

And with that, he was gone, and Elena was left, for the first time, standing in the shadows, without Damon to guide her through.

**A/N: Ta-dah! I hope it's along the lines of what you were thinking of. **

**Please guys, drop me a review. And SuperDensi427, let me know if it was okay! Feedback is always appreciated. **

**Thanks, and much love, **

**Someone x**


	9. What's Wrong With Me?

**A/N: I'll say it again, you're all amazing! I never dreamed this collection would get such a good response, thank you all! This next one is a little different from the others, it'll be a little fluffier, and more hurt/comfort-y. And more openly emotional than my usual ones. Sick, sad Elena. **

**This one was prompted to me by clois22, so you can guarantee it's one of the best Delena moments. It's set in 4x02, the second bathroom scene, when Damon brings Elena a change of clothes after she wrecked the ones she was wearing. Silly Elena. Anyway, in this fic, Connor isn't already outside the bathroom. He isn't there until they leave. **

**Credit where credit's due; thanks clois22, you're a star! **

**Disclaimer; Do I really need to keep saying this? It's not mine. That puts a downer on my mood every time I write it. **

**Apologies for any spelling and/or grammar mistakes. **

A soft knock on the door sent her brain spiralling. She hurriedly wiped at the sink, calling out to let whoever it was know that the room was occupied.

"Elena?" The voice called and she sagged in relief.

"Damon." She opened the door cautiously, and Damon's brows rose when he saw her. She had yet to clean the blood from her lips and chin and her eyes were leaking tears down her cheeks. The front of her dress held a deep red stain. "Come in." She said, standing aside for him. Once he entered, she shut and locked the door and looked around at the mess in the bathroom. Damon's eyes swept the room before landing on Elena. She was trembling.

Silently, he moved to the toilet and wiped it clean, flushing away the reddened water before lowering the lid and leading Elena to it.

"Sit down." He commanded, and she did, thankful to get off her shaking legs.

Damon kneeled in front of her and, with tissue paper in hand, took her hands in his and began wiping the blood away.

"Tell me exactly what happened." He said, and his voice was so soft it made Elena want to cry all over again. But she did as told, explaining the feel of April's pulse beneath her fingers, and the nausea that had made her head spin and her knees buckle.

"I almost didn't make it in here." She finished with a slight hiccup. Damon had finished cleaning the blood from her fingers and arms, and put the used tissues into another bag. He looked up at her through concerned blue eyes.

"I'm sorry." He said softly, stroking his thumb over her knuckle. She looked at him, puzzled for a moment, before his meaning set in.

"Oh...no, Damon. It's not your fault." She shook her head at him, willing him to believe her. "I just...I don't know what's wrong with me."

"We'll figure something out." He promised, squeezing her fingers between his."But until then," He said gently, "you need to feed. And I know you're not going to like it, but you need human blood."

Elena looked at him, alarmed.

"No." She said, shaking her head at him. "I'm scared. I'm so scared I'll hurt somebody. What if I go too far? What if I can't stop?"

"Sshh, sh." Damon whispered, stroking her hair back from her cheek. "We won't let you. We won't let you do that."

But Elena was shaking again, and she felt the familiar tug in her gut that had preceded the last couple of times her stomach contents had evacuated. She let out a whimper and dropped to her knees, twisting and fumbling with the toilet seat. Damon caught on and lifted the lid for her, just in time for her to wretch and bring up yet more of his blood. His eyes widened as she gasped, trying to catch her breath between gags. Damon pulled her hair back softly, lucky she hadn't already thrown up in it.

Elena gasped in a couple more breaths, and Damon knelt close beside her, rubbing her back gently.

"Easy." He murmured, watching her face as she struggled to catch her breath. "Take it easy."

"What's wrong with me?" She asked, the words coming out as soft sobs. Damon shifted closer to her, one knee on either side of her hips, so he was kneeling behind her with her hair in his hands.

"Just relax a minute." Damon's voice held every ounce of worry he had, and she was well aware he'd avoided responding to her question because he had no real answer. He pressed his face into the hair at the back of her head gently and spoke quietly to her. "Do you want me to call Stefan?"

The words hurt him to say, to suggest that maybe Stefan was better at dealing with this than him, but right now she was his top priority, his own feelings aside. But he could barely hide his relief when she shook her head.

"Okay." He breathed, moving to her side to look at her.

She wiped her mouth on some tissue paper and flushed the toilet, watching the blood wash away with blank eyes.

"You done?" Damon asked her.

"I think so, yeah."

Damon stood and moved across the room, picking up the dress he'd grabbed from her wardrobe and bringing it over to her. Her eyes were wet with tears, and his chest tightened. He didn't want her to be miserable anymore, he'd seen enough.

"Get changed, I'll clean up."

Elena sputtered at him.

"Get changed where?"

"Just there is fine." Damon replied with a wink. Relief flooded him when she smacked his arm, because she had a small smile on her face that let him know she would be okay in time.

"You're such an ass." She grumbled. Damon grinned.

"I try."

* * *

"Ready?" He said to her, watching her smooth the fabric of her dress down over her hips. She nodded and picked up her bag, noticing it was stuffed with used tissues. She tipped her head to look at Damon. He shrugged.

"Couldn't leave 'em in here." He reasoned, taking the bag with her dress in it and hanging it over his arm. "Let's go."

Damon unlocked the door and stepped out into the hall, Elena following close behind him. The hallway was quiet and, for the most part, deserted.

"Everything okay in there?" A voice asked, and a young man rounded the corner. He wore a green-grey shirt and black fingerless gloves on his hands, and Damon recognised him from the bar earlier that day, when he'd come to talk to Liz. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, and he pulled Elena by the wrist, moving her to stand behind him.

"Ah, you again. Stalking small-town funerals?" Damon smirked, holding tight to Elena's hand.

"We have not met." The man said, extending a hand. "I'm Connor, Jordan."

Damon eyed Connors hands warily. He definitely did _not_ trust this man.

"Damon, germaphobe." Elena squeezed his hand between both of hers, and there was an urgency to her touch that screamed _I don't want to be here. _He squeezed back reassuringly. _In a minute, _he thought.

"Strange place to find a germaphobe, in a public bathroom." Connor commented, arms folded over his chest with his head tipped back, looking at the pair down his nose. Damon raised a hand in a 'what can I say' gesture.

"Only place free for a quickie." He replied, nonchalant. Elena smacked him, hard, and stepped out from behind him to face Connor.

"I am so sorry about him." She said, glaring at Damon. "He has an...obscure sense of humour. I'm Elena, Gilbert." Elena held out a hand to him.

Damon noticed Connor bristle a little, but he recovered quickly, mirroring her gesture. Damon widened his eyes and slapped Elena's hand down, taking it in his own.

"Baby, you know how I feel about...that." He grimaced, milking the germaphobe comment for all it was worth. Elena gave him a questioning glance.

"Sorry?"

Damon smiled down at her affectionately and kissed her cheek. "Apology accepted. Come on, we've got a funeral to get to. Nice to meet you, Connor."

He pushed her lower back, driving her towards the door and out into the sunlight. Even after 150 years, the bright light still made him flinch. Elena moved in front of him, walking across the grass, and as they neared a stand-alone tree, asked him;

"Did you bring the bloodbag?"

**A/N: And we're back to the events in the episode. This one didn't come out as well as I'd hoped, but I found it harder to write than usual for whatever reason. **

**Still, please please please drop me a review and let me know what you thought, yeah? I love you all! **

**Much love, **

**Someone x **


	10. Not Good Enough (4)

**A/N: Well hello there! I'm so proud of this story, it's getting some amazing feedback from you all! Okay, chapter 10, being a milestone for me, is a pretty important chapter. It's a take on the upcoming episode. Not many spoilers from the actual episode in here, it's mostly just stuff I've made up, but still, if you really want to avoid any spoilers, I suggest you don't read. **

**This one was prompted by Ms.' , who requested something based off of the promo for 4x04. So, here it is! It also involves something suggested by vanagonne, and all I'll say about that is that I've included a character I've never written in this collection before...hope you notice her, vanagonne! **

**Credit where credit's due; Ms.' for the amazing request and vanagonne for the awesome character idea!**

**Disclaimer; I still own nothing. **

**Apologies for any spelling and/or grammar mistakes. Also, this one's pretty damn long...**

She pushed the boy back against the wall and latched onto his throat with pointed fangs, relishing in the warm taste of the blood hitting the back of her throat. It was refreshing; like ice cold water soothing a parched tongue. A hand on her shoulder drew her away, and she turned to see Damon eying her with a raised brow, blood on his chin and shirt. She grinned at him, fangs bared, and he returned the gesture lightly.

"We done?" The boy asked her, dazed. She nodded and, as Damon had told her, compelled him to forget what had happened, and that he'd ever met her. He nodded and stumbled off into the crowd.

"You need something?" She asked Damon, wiping her mouth on the back of her hand. Damon nodded and lead her through the throng by the wrist.

"Stay close." Was all he said. She frowned but did as told, following him through the sticky mass of bodies. Blood pumped through the veins of the people around her and it made her gums ache.

Damon stopped on the dance floor, holding her near to him and glancing around the room warily. Elena narrowed her eyes at him.

"What's going on?" She shouted over the music, leaning close to his ear. He said nothing, simply shook his head and took her hands in his, standing close and moving his hips to the music. She wanted to argue, but knew in the back of her mind it definitely wasn't the answer, so instead moved with him.

She'd had far too much to drink, that much she knew. She shifted closer to Damon and allowed herself to get lost in the music and the atmosphere. She hoped Damon was doing the same, but when she opened her eyes to look at him, he was looking distractedly around the room. She stopped moving and glared at him.

"What is it, Damon?" She snapped, and he met her gaze.

"Nothing, don't worry about it." He let go of one of her hands and brought his down to her waist, encouraging her to move again. She gazed at him from under creased brows, but began dancing again, and this time he smiled and lost himself with her. The music was far too loud on her over-sensitized hearing, but she was beyond caring. She could feel the base vibrating low in her gut and each pounding of the drums made her chest quiver.

She pushed closer to him, their hips brushing, and she moved her hands to his shoulders, offering him a sultry smile as she did. He returned the grin with one of his own, both hands snaking around her waist.

He was so close, and he smelled of Damon, and it was almost too much to handle. Part of her knew she needed to pull away now, that she needed some distance. But another, much larger, part of her wanted to stay right where she was and never leave. And then a voice sounded in her ear that sent chills down her spine.

"Fancy seeing _you _at college."

Damon had stilled in front of her and was staring at the guest with sharp blue eyes. The unwanted arrival looked at him through her lashes, eyes glistening with mischief, the corner of her mouth tilted in a malicious grin.

"Don't look so put out." She said with a pout. "I just came by to chat with my favourite doppelganger."

"Not now, Katherine." Damon growled. She brunette's smile fell and her eyes narrowed.

"What's wrong, lover? Am I ruining the moment?" Katherine took Elena's hand Damon's shoulder and lifted it to examine the fingers. "That _is_ a pretty ring. Which one gave it to you?"

Elena yanked her hand from Katherine's solid grip. Katherine glared a moment, put out, then looked between Damon and Elena, and eyed the blood on their clothes and mouths. A slow smile spread over her face.

"Oh, this is delicious." She circled the two, looking them up and down as she did. Damon pulled Elena closer to him. Katherine leaned in close to Damon's ear. "Was it you? Hmm?" Katherine gave another pout. "Or was it Stefan? How romantic of him."

Elena bared fangs in Katherine's direction, but Damon gave her waist a squeeze. He gave a near-imperceptible head shake. _Not now. _She swallowed her anger and glared at Katherine. The older vampire's grin widened.

"Leave. Now." Damon's voice was too calm, and it made Elena shiver. Katherine lowered her head and glanced up at him through her lashes again.

"But we're just catching up. It's been a while." She stroked her fingers across his shoulders, but he shrugged her off.

"I went one-hundred-and-fifty years without seeing you." He replied with a dark smirk that didn't even come close to reaching his eyes. "I can wait a little longer."

Katherine gave him a withering glance.

"You trudged through those years, hopelessly searching for a way to free me from a tomb I was never in." She sighed and crossed her arms. "I don't think you handled it all that well."

Damon snarled but said nothing. It was Elena's turn to give him a squeeze to the shoulder. He glanced at her, and nodded. _Ignore her. _

"What are you doing here?" Elena asked, patience wearing very, _very _thin.

"Just came to party." She said, and with a smirk of her own, took the arm of a passer-by and bit into his wrist greedily. The boy looked a little too stunned to do anything about it. Damon snatched the boy away.

"Get out of here. Forget what just happened." The trio waited for the dazed frat boy to leave, Katherine with a smirk gracing her bloodied lips, Damon with his lip curled in another snarl, and Elena with wide eyes following the retreating form through the crowd.

"Damon." She whispered hungrily. He held her tight in his grip.

"Come on, Damon." Katherine pouted, gripping Damon's wrists tightly and moving Elena from his grasp. "Let your pet off the leash."

Elena's senses were in over-drive. Her ears were buzzing from the loud music, the shouting and the incessant pulsing of blood through people's veins. Every nerve on her body was tingling. She could taste the blood on her lips and smell the heady scent of it from Katherine's. She scanned the crowd with desperate eyes.

"Go on, Elena." Katherine whispered in her ear, wiping blood from her lip with her thumb. "You've got free reign. Take your fill."

Elena wanted to. She wanted to run away on Katherine's command and follow what every instinct she had was telling her to do. She wanted to sink her teeth into every single body in this room and drain each drop of life from them. But something was stopping her, and she couldn't for the life of her work out what it was. Nothing was baring her, physically. There was nobody standing in her way.

"Elena." A voice barked, reaching her sensitive ears through all the other noise. She turned to glance in the direction the sound had come from and found Damon's gaze on her. His eyes were pleading, but other than that, his body was still and stern.

She felt the world shrink back into focus around her and her legs felt weak. Katherine was eying Damon with a death-glare, but he was paying no attention to her. His eyes were still fixed on Elena.

"That's enough." He said, and the words could have been directed to either girl. Katherine pushed her way between the pair to look Damon in the eye. Her hand came up to grasp the hair at the back of Elena's neck and she pulled her to one side. Elena let out a gasp of pain and winced, head bent at an angle to relieve the pressure.

"She's a vampire, Damon." Katherine said, barely holding back her glee. "Let her be a vampire." Katherine bit into the flesh of her wrist and lifted it to Elena's aching mouth.

She wanted to push her away, she did, but the blood was there, and it smelled so good, and she couldn't stop herself from leaning in and sucking the liquid from the wound.

Katherine smirked up at Damon, whose eyes were wide with shock.

"That's it." She cooed. "Drink up."

And then they were outside. Elena was sitting on the floor with her head in her hands, her stomach curdling unpleasantly. The wall beside her vibrated angrily and she twisted to see Damon and Katherine there. Her doppelganger was backed up against the concrete with Damon's hand clamped tight around her throat.

"Come near her again and I'll drive a stake through your heart." He pulled her back and slammed against the concrete again. "I won't think twice."

Katherine's hands had come up in an attempt to loosen his grip on her throat, but pure anger had made him stronger.

"You don't have it in you to kill me." She taunted, her voice choked. Damon bared his fangs at her. Elena shuddered; she'd never seen him this angry before.

"Don't tempt me." He hissed. Katherine looked up at him. She smiled a slow, sultry smile and moved her hands away from her throat to rest against his cheek.

"More than one way I could _tempt_ you." She whispered. Damon growled and stepped back, releasing her from his grip. At that moment he felt nothing but disgust for her.

"Leave." He said finally. Katherine rubbed her bruised throat and looked between the two.

"Sure thing." She smiled, turning to walk down the street, a sway in her hips designed to catch Damon's eye. "I might head back to Mystic Falls. Unfinished business and all."

Elena and Damon both opened their mouths to retaliate, but Katherine gave a one handed wave over her shoulder, a wink, and disappeared into the shadows. Damon snarled in frustration and drove his fist against the concrete.

"Can we...can we go?" Elena said, her voice hoarse. She didn't remember coming outside, but she was thankful to no longer be in the room. Damon nodded.

"Let me go find Bonnie." He said. Elena nodded, and Damon headed back inside.

The night air was a welcome relief from the heat inside the party, and Elena inhaled it deeply, feeling her insides settle down from the previous churning. After a minute or so, she stood up and paced near the door, content to wait for Damon and Bonnie to return.

* * *

"You sure we're okay to crash here?" Damon asked Bonnie as she locked the door.

"Yeah. Grams...Grams left it to me, so..." She looked between her two guests. "She kept this place so close to the college, in case she had to stay late and didn't wanna travel."

An awkward silence followed, and Bonnie brushed further into the apartment. It was a two-bedroom place with a small bathroom, kitchen and sitting room. She turned on Damon and Elena at one of the bedroom doors.

"This is Grams' old room." She said, a little dazedly. "I'll...I'll sleep in here."

Elena and Damon nodded, understanding that, while she didn't particularly want to sleep in there, she didn't want anybody else to either. She gave them a quick 'night' and headed into the bedroom, shutting the door behind her.

"I think she's still a little emotional, being here." Elena said by way of explanation, and she and Damon ventured further in, finding the second bedroom at the opposite end of a hallway. They peered in, and found one double bed.

"You can sleep here." Damon said immediately. "I'll take the couch."

Elena sighed. Had this happened just weeks ago, he would have been begging and teasing and taunting her to share the bed with her.

"We're both adults, Damon." She said. "We're capable of sharing."

Damon glanced at her and sighed, following her into the room. The couch hadn't looked in the least bit appealing, and he wasn't in the mood to argue. Elena grabbed her night clothes from the bag she'd packed.

"I'm gonna go wash up." She said, and left Damon alone in the room.

After about ten minutes she came back, clad in sleep shorts and a tank top, her face and neck blood-free. While she'd left Damon had cleaned himself up and changed in the bedroom to save a little time, and was sitting on the edge of the bed in black sweats and a t-shirt to match. He looked at her, uneasy, when she came in. She'd been too quiet on the journey home, and he couldn't hide his worry.

"Are you okay?" He asked her, crossing the room to stand before her. She looked up at him and nodded, her eyes wide and glowing. He felt his chest tighten painfully. _God, I love you..._

"What happened?" She asked him. "One minute we were in the middle of a party, and the next we were...we were outside and you..."

Damon glanced at her through narrowed eyes. "You don't remember?"

Elena shook her head.

So Damon told her, about Katherine pushing her and about Katherine feeding her, and about his outburst in the party and his fury that Katherine would _dare _to touch her. He left out the pain. The agony he'd felt seeing Elena feed from Katherine was probably the worst pain he'd ever felt. It cut him down to the core and he'd felt sick to his stomach and so, so jealous.

Elena couldn't tell exactly what he was thinking, but there was a look of hurt on his face that she knew had something to do with tonight. And she wanted to ask, but she didn't feel like she had the right. He was hurting, and it was probably because of her, and she wanted to make it stop. Now.

To this day she doesn't know what possessed her to do it. But before she knew what was happening, she was on her toes and pressing her lips to his. She panicked, thinking he would pull away. He was, after all, still angry at her. But he didn't. Instead, he kissed her back softly. She sighed and dropped back onto her feet, pulling away as he did. His head followed her a little way, forehead pressed to hers. Guilt consumed her almost immediately.

"Stefan..." She murmured, hoping it was explanation enough.

"No, no, no..." Damon whispered, his mouth still so close to hers, and it was such a distraction. "Just...not now" He brought his hands up to cup her cheeks gently, closing his eyes and breathing her in. "It's just you, and me, right here. Right now." He sounded so pained, and she felt, for once, as though it was completely her fault. "Just...just let me get lost in this, for a minute, okay?"

And she couldn't bring herself to say no. So she let him kiss her again, and she kissed him back because she felt like she had to and it felt good and it felt so _right. _They stood there, for a while, holding on to each other gently and moving in a soft rhythm, until reality hit them both and they snapped apart. Damon brushed his fingers back through his hair.

"Oh God..." Elena whispered, closing her eyes and pinching the bridge of her nose. _What have I done..._

Damon looked at her, and for once he didn't look his usual composed self. His lips were kiss-swollen and his eyes were bright, but he was panting and there was a soft red hue to his cheeks that she'd never seen before.

"Don't-," Damon said, holding up a hand. "Don't tell Stefan. He...he doesn't need to know. That didn't happen."

Elena looked at him and nodded. He was angry. She stepped closer to him, but he stepped away unsteadily.

"Don't." He whispered again. And he sounded so hurt.

"Damon..." But she didn't know what to say. This was her fault. She started it, and she let it go on, knowing exactly how he felt and how it would affect him. "I – I'm sorry." She whispered, finally. Damon simply nodded in reply, but when he met her gaze there was a hardened look in his eyes that let her know he was far from forgiving her.

"Not good enough." He said. She looked at her feet. Of course it wasn't good enough. Years of causing him nothing but grief, and years of not really caring couldn't be erased with a simple 'I'm sorry.' But the problem was, she didn't know what _was_ good enough.

She looked up to him, wanting to say something else, something more, but he was no longer there.

"Damon?" She called, her voice unsteady. Her reply came from the sitting room.

"I'm taking the couch." He called, and he sounded so exhausted, so she didn't argue. "Goodnight, Elena."

And there was only one thing left to do.

"Goodnight, Damon."

**A/N: Okay! There's part 4! Elena's not doing very well for herself, is she? And Damon's not entirely guiltless in this one either, just to keep the story a bit more true to character. Because as much as we all love Damon, he makes mistakes, too. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. And did you all like Katherine?!**

**I'm not sure how well she came across. I'll let you be the judge of that! **

**Leave a review and let me know what you all think! **

**Much love, **

**Someone x**


	11. Just Don't Be Angry

**A/N: This is just a short one-shot based on 3x03, after Elena's close-call with Klaus and Stefan. Damon said he had an hour to think things through, so what did he think? Read on to find out ;) **

**This is kind of an anti-plot to the story arc I've created in a few other chapters. This one is more focused on Damon running back to Elena and kissing her feet to get her to be happy with him. Kind of. It's not heavily focused on that idea, but it's in there. **

**This request came from .Ludwig, so props to her for the awesome request, and I'm sorry I haven't really done it justice! **

**Oh! And another message. I got a PM requesting I do a one-shot based on 3x11, when Stefan left Elena at the bridge. For anyone else wanting to see that done, I've actually done it as its own one-shot. It was my very first one . titled 'As Always'. Just look through my stories and find it if you wanna see my interpretation of that scene. **

**Anyway, read on and leave me a review anyway! And once again, I love you all. Unreal amounts. **

**Credit where credit's due; .Ludwig, absolute wonder. Thank you! **

**Disclaimer; I own nothing. Still. Come on guys, you know this by now. **

**Apologies for any spelling and/or grammar mistakes, as always! **

Klaus nearly found her. He nearly found her and it was all his fault.

His feet pounded hard on the sidewalk as he made his way down the street, furious with himself for being so stupid. _What, _he thought angrily, _possessed me to leave her there alone?_ In his mind's eye he played over image after image of arriving back at the apartment to find her gone, or to find Stefan and Klaus there, waiting for him with Elena in their grasp, and knowing there was nothing he could do about it. He shook his head to clear it.

His phone rang again as he was waiting to cross the road.

"Hello?"

"Damon, where are you?" Elena asked. Damon sighed.

"I'm busy. I'll be back soon. Stop with your worrying." He winced as he spoke, but he knew it would do her no good for him to panic. The calmer he could be, the calmer she would be. She let out a growl of frustration down the phone.

"Just...just hurry up, okay?" She asked, and Damon replied with a hurried 'yes' before hanging up. He ran a flustered hand through his hair. _Stupid, stupid, stupid. _

He really couldn't believe himself. What had he been thinking? He kicked at a pebble aggressively and sent it skidding out into traffic. He growled low in his throat. If he could physically have kicked himself, he would.

The streets were buzzing with life, and it was hard to focus on anything with the incessant pulsing of blood in the people around him. Even after 150 years, he still found the hunger hard to control sometimes. Especially when he was angry. But he held it down and tried to think of anything else, and naturally his mind turned to Elena.

"God, I hope she's okay." He whispered to himself as he walked. He wanted to go straight back to her, to take her away from Chicago and come back alone to get Stefan, to keep her safe, but he knew she wouldn't have any of it. And that made him angrier.

Why did she have to be so stubborn? Why did she have to be so madly in love with his brother? Because that was the real issue, here. She couldn't let Stefan go, and even if she could have, she wouldn't. She loved him too much, and that thought made Damon's heart plummet in his chest.

Yes, he was here, in Chicago, following a crazed Original hybrid through the streets to drag his brother back to the girl they both loved. And he knew damn well he would get next to nothing for it. A 'thank you', perhaps, or a hug if he did an especially good job. It was like giving a dog a treat for playing fetch.

He stopped mid-step and considered that last thought. If he hated this all so much, then why the hell was he here? Why was he risking his own hide for this? _Ah yes, _he thought, _because I can't say no to her. _He couldn't even if he tried. And he'd tried, which was the saddest thing.

But he knew that he could pout and moan all he wanted, and in the end he would still walk back to the apartment, coo and fawn over her and make sure she was alright, and dive straight back into his death wish in the hopes that at the end of it all she won't hate him anymore. All he wants is for her to be happy with him again, because it's been so long since she's not been off with him and he can't take it anymore.

So here he was, wandering the streets, alone, because he had been _stupid _enough to leave her alone in Stefan's dwelling, of all places, where he could walk right in and find her.

He was still furious with himself when he reached the apartment door.

* * *

Elena stood partially hidden by a partition wall, ready to lunge at the next person to walk through the door. Footsteps echoed down the hall and her heart pounded faster in her chest. If she'd been in a movie, she decided, the music would be building to a crescendo. And the minute that door opens...

The music stops. Because it wasn't a monster or an axe murdered that waltzed over the threshold.

"Oh, finally, I called you an hour ago!"

Damon threw her bag at her in response, saying;

"Make yourself presentable. I know where Stefan's gonna be tonight." He grinned as he spoke and turned away from her, sinking into a chair. Elena glared at him, disbelieving.

"I told you that I was practically discovered by Klaus and you're worried about what I'm wearing?" She couldn't believe him. She really couldn't.

"I had an hour to realise what a bad idea it was to leave you here alone, process it and move on." He snapped, meeting her gaze at the end of the sentence. She softened a little, contented knowing that he at least felt bad about the entire situation.

Damon swallowed a little. He wanted to fall at her feet, to ask her over and over if she was alright, if she needed anything, if she wanted to go home. But he knew she would only get mad, and that's the last thing he wanted. So he settled with;

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, good."

And inside, he was cheering. She didn't sound angry, and she didn't sound upset, and for once he felt like he'd said the right thing. So, with as much calm as he could gather into his voice, he continued.

"Get dressed, you're all...road-trippy and gross."

**A/N: And there we go. I know there was no extension on this, like I normally do, but I loved the scene the way it was and the only thing I wish we'd known is what was going through Damon's mind, so that's what I did. Anyways, I hope you all enjoy!**

**And I'm sorry it was so short, but that was all I felt needed to be added to this scene :)**

**Leave me a review, let me know what you think, yeah? **

**Much love, **

**Someone x **


	12. I Can't

**A/N: Hey guys! This one-shot wasn't requested by anyone, it was just something I found lying around in my documents and thought it should go up in here. **

**It's not great, it was one of the first one's I ever wrote. But, I hope you all enjoy it anyway! **

**It's set in 2x20 (I think) when Damon forces Elena to drink his blood before the sacrifice. It's got a little bit more Delena cuteness added, but it's mainly just Damon's thoughts throughout that scene. **

**Please read and review! **

**And a huge thank you again to everyone who has reviewed, followed or added this story to their favourites! I love you all! **

**Disclaimer; I own nothing. **

**Apologies for any spelling and/or grammar mistakes. **

"You disappeared." She said, stepping into the room with unease, feeling as though she were unwanted there for the first time. Damon was gazing out the window, his back to her.

"I didn't wanna hear anymore." He replied sullenly, still not turning to face her. Elena sighed.

"I need you to understand why I'm doing this."

Damon turned to look at her, and his face betrayed every emotion he felt. He was hurt, he was upset, he was angry, and he was _scared_.

"Why? Clearly doesn't matter what I think." His voice was thick as he replied, and he knew it was petulant, but he didn't care. He wanted his way. Her way just wasn't an option.

"I'll be fine, Damon." She said softly, hands tucked into the back pockets of her jeans. "I'll drink the elixir, Bonnie will kill Klaus, and then all this will finally be over." She crossed her arms over her chest and smiled to him. He pinched his face up in disbelief.

"If it works."

"It will work." She replied.

"You _think_ it will work. You _want _it to work. Why am I the only one convinced that it won't?" He glared at her, feeling his throat tighten. He didn't want this. He didn't want to argue with her, he just wanted her to see how completely _stupid_ her plan was. He wanted her to acknowledge that he was right, and that this was a terrible idea. "There has to be another way."

"There isn't." She replied.

"Then you're gonna die, Elena."

"And then I'll come back to life." She reasoned gently. Damon shook his head.

"That's not a risk I'm willing to take." He said, pointing a hand at her. He didn't want to lose her.

She took his hand in both of hers and gazed at him with pleading eyes. He stared, jaw clenched, fighting the urge to pull her to him.

"But I am." She whispered gently. He watched her fingers as they clenched his hand, desperate for him to understand. But he would never understand. He couldn't see why she was so desperate to throw her life away. "It's my life, Damon." She said softly. "My choice."

Damon gazed at her and felt a pain build in his chest. He swallowed hard, his eyes wide, and tipped his head to the side, shaking it softly.

"I can't lose you." His voice was barely a whisper, but she heard it loud and clear. She sighed and stepped closer to him.

"You won't." She said, trying her best to reassure him. He couldn't do this, he just couldn't. He felt tears well in his eyes.

"But what if I do?" He asked, and the crack in his voice made her heart break. She could think of no way to reassure him, no words that would offer him comfort, so she let go of his hand and wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing her face into his chest. He kept stock still for a moment, not sure what to do with himself. He'd hoped against hope that she would say '_fine, fine I won't do it, I won't hurt you anymore.' _But he'd known there was no chance of that happening. The choice was made, she would never have changed her mind, no matter how much he begged, and pleaded, and cried.

So he did all that he could do. He folded his arms around her, too, and dropped his face to her hair. He inhaled the scent of her shampoo; she smelled like coconut, and vanilla, and something else he couldn't place but was so _her. _She was small and soft and so close, and he never wanted to let her go.

"I can't." He whispered, and she hugged him tighter. But he pulled away.

She watched him with wide eyes as he crossed the room to stand by the window once more, illuminated by the light. He watched her from there, face blank.

"Damon..." She breathed, but he shook his head.

"I'm done." He said gently. "I won't be there. I can't watch them send you off to your death bed, Elena, I can't."

"I – Damon," she stepped closer to him, but he shook his head at her again, "I need you there." She whispered. He glared at her.

"And I need you here." He snapped, and she flinched. He dropped his voice to a bare whisper. "I guess neither of us get what we want."

Elena took a step back from him towards the door. She couldn't believe this. How could he be so inconsiderate of her feelings? How could he not see how hard this was for her? Why did he have to make things worse _all the time_?

"Fine." She snapped back. "Fine, but when this is done, and I come back, don't expect my forgiveness." The words were hissed, and she knew they hurt him, but she no longer cared. He was being typical Damon, selfish and ignorant, and she was sick of it.

She spun for the door, but his voice stopped her.

"There is another way." He whispered, and she stared at him, wondering just what was going through his mind now.

"What?" She asked, folding her arms and glaring. He shrugged his shoulders and advanced on her.

"If you're going to hate me anyway, I might as well..."

She noticed he was talking to himself, more than to her, and she frowned. Her frown shifted to a wide-eyed stare when he sank his fangs into his own wrist and brought it up to her face.

"Damon...Damon, no." She said, but he was no longer listening.

He wasn't sure what possessed him to do it. She was pleading and crying, and trying to fight him off, but something drove him to do it. He forced his wrist against her mouth, and his hand came up to the back of her head to hold her in place. She was tugging at his wrist, but he felt so numb that her small nails barely registered against his skin. He just didn't want to lose her. Was that so hard to understand? He couldn't bear the thought of a life without her, and that sucked because she was ready to kill herself to save the ones she loved, but she wouldn't do one little thing for him.

_Just drink, _he thought to himself, _just drink it, and please don't hate me. _And when that thought hit him, he almost pulled away. If she's going to hate him forever, is it worth turning her? And the simple answer? Yes. Because even if she hates him for it, she's alive and he won't have to lose her forever, not really.

And then he was skidding across the floor, his back slamming into the furniture against the wall, and Stefan was screaming at him, '_what did you do? What did you do?'_

And he doesn't really know what he's done. His mind hadn't caught up with his heart yet, and he still couldn't see how what he'd done was wrong. But it would hit him, in time. The full weight of it all. That she would hate him for as long as she chose to live as a vampire, because it was all his fault, and he'd taken that choice away from her.

And he would realise that yes, he had lost her forever.

**A/N: Heartbreaking Damon there. I wrote this one because I really could empathize with him here. 'Love is blind', right? That phrase holds so many meanings, and I like to think this one-shot demonstrated one of them. **

**Anyway, leave me a review and let me know what you think! **

**Much love, **

**Someone x **


	13. What Do You Feel? (5)

**A/N: I'm so sorry guys! It's been so long since I last posted. This has been lying around in my documents for a few days now, I just needed to get around to doing the ending! Again, I'm so sorry! **

**So yeah, this is a one-shot based on the new episode, requested by clois22 and SuperDensi427. I know it's not exactly the scene you asked for, SuperDensi427, but it has similar themes to the one you asked for and it's in the same episode, so I hope it's good enough **

**Again, so sorry it's been so long. I love you guys, I really do. **

**Credit where credits due; clois22 and SuperDensi427. I love you both for the amazing prompts! **

**Disclaimer; Nothing belongs to me. Ever. **

**Apologies for any spelling and/or grammar mistakes. **

"What do you feel, Elena?" He asked finally, resigned. She was really trying his patience.

"When you tell me what a vampire should be...deep down, I believe you. I think that you're right, and I – I hate that feeling."

_No shit, Sherlock, _he thought lazily, _of course I'm right. Nine times out of ten I'm right, but do you ever listen? _

"Because I don't wanna be..." Elena trailed off, and Damon filled in the blanks with a sad smile.

"You don't wanna be like me."

And she looked at him as though she felt guilty. He wanted to believe that she did, but he knew her too well. The only thing she felt, with regards to him at least, was pity. She gazed up at him with bright brown eyes, and they made him want to melt. But he stood his ground. He was still angry at her.

"I can't be _this_." She said, gesturing to him with a wave of her arm. "I don't want to be what you are."

"And what _do_ you want to be?" He snapped, narrowing his eyes on her. "Because you're options are pretty damn limited." She looked at him, affronted.

"Damon-."

"No, listen to me." He snarled, anger swelling the veins beneath his eyes. Elena backed up into the railing, but Damon didn't advance on her. "Stop giving us that '_I can't kill anybody' _crap. Because believe it or not, you're not the only person in the world with feelings. Everybody feels grief, and remorse, and it's hard on all of us."

Elena opened her mouth to interrupt, but appeared too frozen to speak.

"So cut the crap. Get a grip. You live like the rest of us, or you die."

She looked so hurt, and he did feel bad, but she needed to hear it. She needed to know exactly what he, and everybody else, if he was honest, felt about the situation. He was done trying to please her. If nobody else would tell it how it is, he was perfectly happy to do it.

Elena looked at her feet, completely thrown by the scalding Damon had given her. He watched her for a moment, and when she didn't look up, he sighed.

"Look," He said, his voice softer than before, "I don't want to fall out anymore over this. But just...can't you see how hard you're making it for us to help you?"

She raised her head and met his gaze, brown eyes shining with tears.

"Don't look at me like that." Damon whispered, eyes downcast.

"I'm sorry." She said in a feeble voice.

"I want you to be sorry." Damon looked up at her to meet her eyes at that, and stuck his hands in his jeans pockets. "But I don't think you are."

Elena brought a hand up to wipe her cheeks with her sleeve, clearing the tears that had fallen there. She scanned his face, hoping to find something of the normal Damon there, but instead found a blank expression. And it made her angry.

"What do you want me to?" She exploded, raising her hands in resignation. "I – I don't know what it is your expecting of me!"

"And that's the problem!" Damon shouted back, his carefully arranged expression crumbling. "You don't know, so you don't even try. God, Elena, I..." He trailed off then, shaking his head. He raised his hands up in surrender. "I'm done." He said.

"You've said that before." Elena commented drily. Damon shook his head at her.

"No. I'm done-done. You don't want to learn what I have to teach you. You don't want to be what I can teach you to be." He moved towards the steps, but Elena's voice called him back.

"Damon, please." She said, her voice hoarse. "Please don't leave."

He opened his mouth to reply as the front door opened and Stefan stepped onto the porch. Elena turned to him immediately.

"Hey." She said, surprised.

"Hey." He replied, eying the pair.

"Wha...what are you doing here?"

Damon watched Stefan as he spoke, feeling some overwhelming emotion swell in his chest. Nothing hurt more than this. Seeing the girl he loved, love his brother unconditionally, despite everything the ripper had done, while she constantly finds reasons to be angry at him. _How is this fair? _

"Any news on the hunter?" He asked, because making conversation hurt much less than sitting inside his own head.

"No, no, nothing new."

"Well, then today was a bust." Damon said, turning his gaze to Elena. He didn't mean it to be accusing, but by the way she lowered her eyes to the floor he figured it sounded as much. "She's all yours." Damon said with a smirk that didn't reach his eyes.

Elena watched him as he turned away, eyes wide. Those words scared her more than anything, because she couldn't tell if he meant just now, or if that simple sentence was telling her he'd really had enough.

Stefan turned to speak to her, but she held up a hand to quiet him.

"Just...just wait, Stefan. Wait."

And with that she threw herself down the porch steps and turned into the darkness, heading for Damon's retreating back. She wanted to call out for him, to make him stop, but her throat felt too tight and the words wouldn't come.

He heard her footsteps follow him down the path, and he stopped beside his car, waiting idly for the next excuse to fall from her lips.

"Damon." She breathed, standing beside him. He arranged his face in a stoic expression and met her gaze.

"Elena." He replied blankly. She looked to the floor, and when she raised her gaze her eyes were shining with tears.

"I – I'm sorry. I _am_." She looked so earnest and he wanted to believe her so badly. "I am, Damon. I...I don't want to lose either of you. And I'll try harder, I promise. But I need some help."

Damon narrowed his gaze on her, but it wasn't malicious, simply a way to hold back his own tears.

"What do you want me to do?" He asked her, his voice barely a whisper.

"I don't know." She said gently, "Just...something. Anything." And she was pleading.

Damon took a breath and looked back towards the house. Stefan had gone inside, feeling too uncomfortable to listen in on their conversation.

"I want you to go home. Go inside and just...let me have tonight to think things over."

Elena looked at him through wide doe-eyes.

"I'll speak to you soon." He added, then turned and climbed into his car, driving away as fast as he would allow himself.

Resigned, Elena turned back to the house and climbed onto the porch. Stefan opened the door immediately and stepped out, lowering his head to look her in the eyes.

"So," He sighed, hands buried in his jeans pockets, "What happened?"

* * *

Damon pulled onto the side of the road near Wickery Bridge. His eyes were blurry, and he swiped at the tears on his cheeks angrily. _Why am I crying over this?_ He thought, the tears didn't want to stop. She was tearing him apart bit by bit and he was oh-so sick of it, but he couldn't bring himself to let her go, no matter how much it hurt. Because he couldn't lose her, he just couldn't. It would ache more than anything she could ever put him through.

So he sat back, tipping his head against the head-rest of the drivers seat, and he let the tears fall.

**A/N: Sorry about the depressing Damon at the end, but it felt like a good way to end it. **

**Anyways, drop me a review and let me know what you all thought! **

**I love you guys! **

**Much love, **

**Someone x**


	14. Just Not Right Now

**A/N: Hey all! Okay, so I've tried to blast this one out to clear my head, because my Uni applications have just been sent off and I'm freaking out, so I'll apologise in advance because this is terrible and rushed and aaahhhh D: **

**Anyways, this one was requested by PaganDruidFuneral, and it's something you'll all (hopefully) enjoy. It's set in 3x19, and it's basically Damon and Elena's thoughts and feelings during this scene, and Jeremy doesn't interrupt them! Until a little later, anyway. **

**Oh! And over 50 reviews guys! Jeeeesus, I love you all so much! Thank you for being patient with me, I'm back at school so I've got my hands full with other things. **

**Credit where credit's due; PaganDruidFuneral for the amazing idea! I just took it and did what I love to do. **

**Disclaimer; I own nothing. **

**Apologies for any spelling and/or grammar mistakes. I was hyped and nervous when I wrote this, so I'm giving extra apologies this time. **

He would be lying if he said he wasn't surprised to see her eyes open.

He'd turned his gaze from his empty cup to glance at her for a moment, just a moment, while she was sleeping and peaceful and her brow wasn't creased in worry and her cheeks weren't blackened with fatigue. But instead of seeing close lids, he was met with wide doe-eyes, staring through the darkness.

She was watching him with her head still rested on the pillow, and when his eyes met hers she stared, caught in the startled blue orbs for a moment, before curling her arm against the pillow and trying to go back to sleep.

The corner of his mouth tugged sideways in a small smile. He was mesmerised, and it was really at that moment, his heart tight in his chest and his eyes unable to leave her form, that he realised just how hard he'd fallen for her.

And then her eyes opened again, as though she was trying to watch him, too, and this time when their gazes met she held on. She lifted her head a little from the pillow to get a better look at him. Yes, he was shirtless, and yes, he was beautiful, but it was his eyes that kept her hanging. He was watching her with something akin to wonder, adoration, and it made her heart flutter. Stefan had looked at her with love and affection, but he'd never looked at her like this.

Damon tipped his head at her, then set his cup on the table and stood, crossing the room and lying, a little hesitantly, on the bed beside her. He tucked his hand beneath his head against the pillows. The whole time, his gaze never left hers.

She watched him for a little longer, before her thoughts caught up with her and she spoke, breaking the silence.

"You never told me about that," She said, her voice a husky from sleep, "What you did for Rose." It was true, he'd never mentioned it. And it had been so sweet of him, it had, and she knew that, but a little part of her was jealous of the affection he'd shown the dying vampire.

For the first time he twisted his head away, breaking their gaze.

"It wasn't about you." He murmured, voice equally hoarse.

"Why don't you let people see the good in you?" Elena asked him, a little teasing in her tone, but her question serious nonetheless.

"Because when people see good, they expect good." He turned his gaze towards her again, meeting her curious eyes with pain in his own. "And I don't want to have to live up to anyones expectations." _Your expectations, _he thought to himself, and from the look on her face and the break of her gaze, he knew she'd thought the same thing.

She rolled away from him, then, realising just how close they were and knowing he'd be able to feel the guilt radiating from her in waves. She was well aware that he was talking about her. And that hurt more than she expected.

Her breathing grew quick and she settled on her back, pulling her hair away from her neck in an attempt to rid herself of the sudden choking feeling in her throat. She dropped her hand down beside her on top of the covers, stretching out her elbow, simply for something to do.

He knew he'd made her awkward and he wanted to make it better, but he'd just admitted something to her that he'd never even admitted to himself before. He was so scared of hurting her, of _disappointing_ her, that he was working as hard as he could to show her how much of a monster he could be, so that she could only ever be surprised when he did something _right_.

Her hand brushed his when it fell, and a wave of emotion burned his lungs and took control of his limbs, twisting his arm to move nearer her skin. He hooked his fingers under hers and his thumb brushed the back of her hand in slow, hesitant movements, until he had her fingers clasped in his own. He looked up to her face, then, and met her eyes. Her breathing was heavy and she rolled her eyes frantically, before pulling her hand from his, pushing the covers away and rushing from the bed, out of the room and into the hall. He frowned, lifting his head and watching her leave.

She pulled on her jacket in the hall, wrapping it around herself and leaning against the vending machine, her breathing still too heavy. Her head was spinning and her mind was clouded.

She heard the door open behind her and rolled her eyes, heart thrumming a nervous beat against her ribcage. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other and raised her arm to rest her elbow against the machine, breathing in a ragged breath.

"Don't..." She said, shaking her head and crossing her arms.

Damon stood behind her, watching her with a nervous disposition, terrified and yet oh-so prepared for the rejection he was about to get. Her heartbeat was pounding in his ears and his stomach curled unpleasantly when her voice floated the distance between them.

"Why not?" He asked her, tipping his head slightly to one side. "Elena..." he whispered.

And then her lips were on his.

She launched herself at him, resigned to the idea that this was what she was here for, so why not enjoy it? His hands came up to her back, holding her tight against his chest and after a moment of shock, his lips moved against hers. Her hands came up to his neck, curling her fingers into his hair. She pulled away for a moment, as though she wanted to stop, but something pulled her back and she was sure it had nothing to do with the hands at her waist.

He couldn't believe it. He really, really couldn't believe this was happening. Damon brought his hands up to her hair, and down to her waist, and to her back, and back to her neck, and he didn't really know what to do with himself. She was everywhere and he wanted to be everywhere with her, but wherever he put himself, it was never enough. He needed to keep her still, somehow, and he staggered forwards, taking her with him to hit the wall. His hand shot out for the unyielding surface, slowing their movements until her back melted against it. The last thing he wanted now was to hurt her.

Elena was dazed. She'd expected a quick kiss, a kiss to assure her she felt nothing, a kiss that let her forget him and move on with her life, with Stefan. This was the last thing she'd thought would happen. He was everywhere. Her hands ran over his shoulders, up his arms, in his hair, around his back. She opened her mouth in a gasp when his lips left hers to worship her neck and chest, but that wasn't what she wanted. She pulled him back to her with her fingers in his hair and kissed him again, hard.

Then he was pulling away.

He met her gaze with his own, both panting and clinging to one another. And he was so sure she was going to push him away, slap him, shout and scream and cry, anything. But she didn't. She held his gaze with her own for a time, then pushed their lips back together. His hands shifted to her hips, and then her backside, and he pulled her against him while straining forwards, pushing her hard into the wall.

She let out a soft moan and a loud breath, aware that they were making altogether too much noise, and not caring in the slightest. It felt too good, too hot, too _right._ Elena's hand came up to cup the back of his head and she tangled her fingers in the hair against his neck, holding him close to her, too.

Damon lifted his hand from her backside to her neck, curling it beneath her hair, and his kisses grew softer. She reciprocated in kind, loosening her grip on him and resting her hand against his neck, thumb brushing his jaw delicately. He broke the kiss, resting his forehead against hers for a moment and breathing heavily. Elena reached out again and kissed him softly, nipping his bottom lip gently before letting him go. He gave a contented sigh, and they both let their eyes slide closed.

"Elena..." Damon whispered again, tangling his hand into her hair. She raked her fingers softly over his scalp and he let out a sound akin to a purr, contented. She took a couple of deep breaths to calm her racing heartbeat.

"Damon." She breathed. "Oh my God..."

"No." Damon murmured, giving her a chaste kiss on the lips. "Please no..."

But she pushed him away gently, hands on his shoulders. And when her eyes met his, she saw tears there. Her thumb stoked over his clavicle lightly.

"We...we can't do this." She said, "It's not fair...not fair on Stefan." She was still panting softly, her eyes searching his, begging him to understand her.

He stepped back then, moulding his face into a blank expression, eyes hard and cold. Elena sighed, rubbing her temples with her fingertips. She reached out and took his face in her hands, brushing her thumbs across his jaw-line.

"You're turning me down. Turning _this _down." He gestured between them pathetically, voice thick, his hand falling limp at his side. He barely had the energy to hold himself up anymore.

"I'm not saying no, Damon. Just...not right now." _I need time to think. _

_I love you. Why can't you see that?_ Damon thought desperately, letting his gaze soften as she held it, and he allowed every ounce of the disappointment he felt flood them. He saw the guilt spread on her face, and a little part of him revelled in it.

"I'm not good enough for you." He deadpanned. Elena shakes her head vehemently, and to prove her point, she kisses him again. And he wants to push her away, he really does, but she feels too right and he can't do that to himself, so he melts and kisses her back, one hand fisting her hair softly. This kiss stayed soft, gentle, but it held so much meaning and he let out a noise that was more than a whimper but less than a moan. Elena pushed against him softly, moulding herself to his chest.

His heart had never felt such an odd combination of light-as-air and pit-of-his-stomach-heavy. She was everything he wanted, but the situation left a lot to be desired. But he forced his brain to shut off, just for a moment, and let himself enjoy the feel of her lips on his, the feel of her body curved against his own.

And then...

"Elena?"

Hands pushed his chest away and he stumbled back a step, one hand still tangled in her hair.

"Oh, my God, Jeremy! I..."

Damon moved away, lips kiss-swollen, dropping his hand from her neck and turning to look at Jeremy.

Jeremy turned his head to look out the door, feeling suddenly guilty and a little embarrassed.

"Rose found Mary." He said, "She lives in Kansas."

Damon twisted his head to look at Elena, and she lowered her eyes to avoid his gaze, feeling her cheeks heat. She'd hoped and prayed that that kiss would mean nothing, and those dreams had shattered to pieces the minute their lips had met and her heart had swelled. Nerves made her sick and she rested a hand on her stomach.

"Okay then." Damon murmured. "Let's go."

**A/N: And voila! Again, I'm so sorry that it's not all that great. Like I said, I've been a nervous wreck tonight. **

**But please, feel free to leave me a review! Also, I'm aiming for 100 follows on this story, so please, if you're enjoying it, just click the button and make my day! **

**I love you guys, and I'm sorry for this. **

**Thanks in advance, **

**Someone x**


	15. Author's Note 2, Please Read!

**Hi guys! I'm sorry if this got your hopes up, but it's not an update **** please keep reading though! **

**So, I am so so so sorry, it's been ages since I updated this, but I have January exams so school is buckling down on revision and mocks and homework and stuff. On the bright side, it's nearly time for the Christmas holidays! So I'll have more time to write then, I promise. **

**My muse has also up and left. So, please continue to leave requests in the review section or whatever, and I'll try and fill them when I get time. **

**On the bright side, for those of you who read the last chapter and saw that I had sent of my university application, you'll be pleased to know that I've already got back four offers. FOUR. And on of them is from my top-choice university, which is actually pretty competitive. I didn't know that. My references must have been killer. **

**So yeah, I'm in a pretty good mood at the moment. **

**Aaaaalso. The latest episode. My god. My little shipper heart exploded a little from happiness. That last scene...asdfghjkl. **

**Anyway! Back on topic. Don't forget to leave me a review if you're enjoying my one-shots, and let me know if you have any requests! You can also follow me on twitter or tumblr to ask me about updates or whatever. **

**I really hope you stayed long enough to read all of this! **

**Twitter; Lollii59 **

**Tumblr URL; someone-stole-my-shoes **

**Follow me if you can, I follow back **

**I love you guys so much for not abandoning me! **

**Don't give up hope, I promise I'll write more soon. **

**Hugs and butterfly kisses, your Draco. Just kidding, but anyone who gets that reference is f*cking awesome. **

**Much love, **

**Someone x**


	16. I Had Fun

**A/N: Hey all! Like I said in m authors note, so sorry it's been ages since an update! **

**This new one is a little sickly sweet with some vulnerable Damon and something we're all wanting to hear from Elena! It's set the morning after 4x07. It was requested to me by two different people, so thanks guys! **

**Credit where credit's due; Fluffy-bunnies-master and clois22, who both requested a morning-after fic. It's not brilliant, but it's done! Thanks for the fantastic request guys! **

**Disclaimer; even after all this time, I still own nothing. **

**Apologies for any spelling and/grammar mistakes. And my ill attempt at writing. I think I'm losing my touch guys! Never mind, more practice will do the trick. **

He was scared.

He was so, so scared of losing her and he'd only just got her.

So he kept his arm wrapped around her waist and he curled his knees to fit in behind hers, and pressed his face into her hair, breathing her in. She was breathing deeply and steadily, still in a peaceful sleep, and he didn't want to move and wake her just yet. Bright light was filtering in through the gaps in the curtains and it fell across her face and hair. He sat up a little to look at her and found a small smile on her sleeping face.

He had her, in his bed, naked and fast asleep before him. He _finally_ had her. He pressed his lips to the back of her head and closed his eyes, sleepy and sated.

"Morning." She whispered, and he pulled back with a start, looking down and glancing into wide open brown eyes. His own blue orbs were still bleary from sleep, and his hair was tousled and he looked absolutely stunning.

"I didn't know you were awake yet." He murmured, sheepish. She grinned up at him and stretched out cat-like beside him. He smiled and lay down on his back, hooking his arms behind his head on the pillow.

"Hmmm." She hummed softly.

And then she was on top of him.

She tangled her legs with his and crossed her arms on his chest, her chin rested on them and her eyes gazing into his.

"Morning." He repeated after some delay, voice low and husky.

She only smiled in reply, then pushed herself further up and pressed her lips against his. He let out a noise somewhere between a groan and a purr.

"I'm never going to get used to that." He whispered. He could feel her grin against his lips and closed his eyes, feeling, for the first time in a long time, completely contented. The feeling drained away as quickly as it'd come when the thought of losing her settled itself firmly in the back of his mind.

"Are you okay?" She asked him suddenly, frowning down at him. He nodded and offered a small smile.

"Never better." He replied softly.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah," he said, brow creasing, "Why?"

She shrugged, but there was a look of confusion on her face that he couldn't quite understand. She dropped her head back to her arms and cuddled against him.

"I had fun last night." She mumbled. He smiled and smoothed her hair across her shoulders.

"Me too."

They lay like that for a while, comfortably to be in each other's company with no words passing between them. Damon stretched his back out beneath her and she groaned. He laughed softly.

"I was trying to go back to sleep." She huffed out, looking up at him again. He rolled his head to one side and glanced at the clock. 10:58.

"We should get up." He said. Elena followed his gaze and sat up with a start. Damon's eyes widened at the site of her, open and bare before him. He dropped his hand over the side of the bed and felt around for his shirt, closing his fingers around it and lifting it up for her to see. He raised a brow at her and waited for her to catch on.

"Wha-. Oh." She found herself asking, once again, could vampire's blush? Because her cheeks felt all-together too hot as she reached out for his shirt and buttoned it around herself. He spread his fingers out across her hips and grinned up at her.

"No need to be embarrassed." He chided teasingly. "Besides, you're still not wearing pants."

"Damon!" She cried, scrambling off of him and pulling the covers up to her waist. He barked out a laugh and rolled onto his side, propping his head up on his hand and smiling wolfishly up at her.

"I really do hate you sometimes." She grumbled, slapping his shoulder lightly, and his smile dropped. His eyes grew sad. Without speaking, he shuffled closer to her and rested his head on her abdomen, bringing a hand up to rest on her hip. Her fingers curled into his hair and scraped his scalp gently.

"You don't really hate me though, do you?" He asked softly. She breathed out an 'oh, Damon,' and bent her neck to kiss the top of his head.

"You know I don't." She whispered. "Why would you think that?"

He shrugged and pressed himself closer to her.

"Hey." She murmured, trying to lift his head and make him look at her. He stayed resolutely still, like a petulant child. "Damon, look at me."

He shook his head. She sighed and raked her fingers through his hair.

"What's wrong?" She asked.

"Nothing." Damon replied. She frowned down at him.

"Come on, tell me what's going on."

He kept his head down but spoke, in a quiet, broken voice.

"I've just got you." He started, "I...I don't wanna...do something stupid and mess this up." He whispered.

"Damon..."

He lifted his head and looked up at her through wide blue eyes, afraid of what she might say. She sighed and took his face in her hands, her thumb brushing his jaw line. He leaned into the touch and closed his eyes.

"I love you." She said. His eyes snapped open and he stared at her, bewildered. He worked hard to get his tongue and lips to form words, but when they refused to comply he slammed his mouth shut and continued to stare. Elena grinned at him, and slowly but surely, a smile spread across his face.

"I. Love. you." She repeated, and his smile widened.

"You...you do?"

"Mhm." She hummed, and the next thing she knew his lips were pressed to hers and he was smiling and laughing and she was fairly certain he was crying, too.

"I love you, too." He said shakily against her lips. "I love you too."

"Are you okay now?" She laughed softly, and he nodded, enthusiastic, rolling to lie on top of her and resting his weight on his elbows. His lips moved to kiss along her jaw line and he nuzzled his lips against that pliant spot below her ear that made her gasp and sigh and whimper and moan all in one go.

She hummed appreciatively when his mouth travelled lower still, kissing across her collar bone and down her chest. She hooked her knees up to his hips and grinned, fully prepared for a repeat of the night prior.

**A/N: It's cute and short and pretty OOC, but it's done and it's given me some incentive to write another one-shot, so even if this isn't all that good, please stick around and read the next one when I get around to doing it! **

**Anyways, leave me a review and let me know what you think! **

**It's not too terrible :P **

**Thanks in advance, guys! I love you all for sticking around through my mini hiatus. **

**Much love, **

**Someone x**


	17. Fading Fast

**A/N: Hey guys! Thanks to everyone who's already read and reviewed the last chapter. Here's a treat for you...another one! **

**This one is set in season 1, when Damon saves Elena after she crashes her car. It's mainly just what was going on in their heads and stuff, and a bit more trauma for Elena, and a bit more comfort from Damon. **

**Credit where credit's due; this one was requested by clois22, because she shares my love of caring Damon. Thank her for the awesome idea! **

**Disclaimer; I own nothing. Still. Surprise surprise. **

**Apologies for any spelling and/or grammar mistakes. **

Everything hurt.

A sheen of cold sweat, combined with the ice-cold chill of the night air, caused her body to convulse in violent spasms as she scrambled her hands against the roof of the car. She coughed out on a harsh breath to rid herself of the sharp _something _scraping against her tongue and gums. A few shards of glass tinkled innocently to the ground. She coughed around a gag, dislodging more glass from her mouth, and dragged her nails across her tongue to rid herself of the taste.

She was upside down, the world around her black and blurry and the ground below hard and unyielding. Her seat belt proved an obstacle she'd not anticipated, but she scrambled on, twisting and turning violently from side to side in an attempt to free herself from her confines. Her head spun, and in an instant the world tipped off-kilter again, and the roof lurched towards her face in a blow that never actually came.

Above and around her, the broken vehicle formed an ominous canopy, trapping her close to the ground in an all-too claustrophobic prison. She whimpered in fear and tugged at her seatbelt, begging it to come loose and free her, but the damn thing wasn't playing her game and her restraints seemed to get tighter still.

She rocked and grabbed and cried and screamed in a frenzy for what seemed like hours, until she discerned a noise nearby that had not been dragged from her own lungs. She stilled, frozen in fear and awe, as the being she'd knocked to the floor began to move, cracking bones back into place and pulling itself to its feet.

She made yet more feeble attempts to remove her seatbelt, and when that failed, she pressed her hands to the roof of the car and scraped her fingernails through the glass, twisting her head from side to side searching for some kind of escape.

The creature was coming closer now, at a fast pace, and it let out a grunt of pain and a low snarl that caused a fresh wave of fear to uncurl in her gut. Something warm dripped onto her hand. The sensation made her gaze shoot down, and she suppressed a cry at the spots of blood marring her skin. It took her a moment to register that they were coming from her own face.

Beside her, the resounding thud of footsteps echoed across the road and a lamentable wail broke through the air. In the back of her mind she knew the sound was coming from her own mouth. And then, all fell silent. The wind whispered through empty space. The road seemed to calm.

Then, uproar.

A cacophony of sound pitched beside her; wind howling, metal crunching; grunting, growling, snarling, howling; and an unearthly sound with no defining term that caused the hairs on the back of her neck to salute, and she launched back into movement to travel as far from the noise as she could get, which wasn't all that far, because the seatbelt still held her fast. It built up, louder and louder, and her movements became more vigorous, more desperate. She wondered, for a moment, just how much of this was happening in her own head, and how many of those horrifying noises were torn from her own throat. Dirt and glass buried itself beneath her nails, and the blood dripping onto her hands fell with more force than before, and in a greater quantity. That ghostly noise was growing to a crescendo in her ears, and the world tilted again, throwing her off-balance, her grip on the ground unhasped, and she was falling.

And then she wasn't.

"How you doing in there?"

Right then, right there, she couldn't remember a time she'd ever been happier to hear a familiar voice, and see a familiar face. She brought her hands to cover her cheeks and felt more spots of glass there.

"Damon." She whimpered

"You look stuck." He observed, eyeing the car and assessing the situation.

"It...it's my seatbelt. I can't...I can't get it off." She sobbed, dragging in lungfuls of air as though she'd never tasted the cool gas on her tongue before. It didn't sooth her like it should have. Her sobs grew a little louder and her head spun angrily. The side of the car was ripped away and more of the cold night air filtered in.

"Shh, sh sh sh sh." Damon said softly, soothingly, and he kneeled back down beside her so that she could see his face. She looked at him through bleary, red rimmed eyes. She was whimpering quietly, wanting nothing more than to be freed from her confines. "I'm gonna get you out of here. I want you to put your hands on the roof."

She did as told, hesitantly, trying not to embed more glass in the torn skin.

"Just like that." He praised. "You ready?"

She nodded, more tears flowing out of her full eyes and running down to meet the blood spots on the backs of her hands.

"One, two, three."

She fell, really this time, but soft hands caught her hips and pulled her out of the wreck before she knew what was happening.

"You okay?" He asked, and she groaned, arms lolling out of his grip. She wanted to lie down. She needed to lie down. "Can you stand? Is anything broken?"

She shook her head, but she didn't really know. She just wanted him to put her back on the ground so that she could lie down. He set her on her feet, and the moment he let go of her, she dropped to the floor. He caught her under her arms and tried to lift her again, but she shook her head violently. It made her feel dizzy and sick and she moaned again, so he lowered her to the floor.

She pulled herself onto her hands and knees and stilled for a moment, with one of Damon's hands on her lower back and the other on the ground beside her.

"I feel sick." She said thickly, and he immediately shifted his position to pull her hair out of her face. Her elbows shook violently with the effort of keeping her up, and her palms stung, but she didn't move. Her gut rolled unpleasantly and she wretched. Damon whispered soothing noises in her ear, and she could tell by the tone of his voice and the feel of his hand rubbing between her shoulder-blades that he was trying to be caring. That he was honestly worried.

"You alright?" He asked. She shook her head at him and gagged again, this time bringing up whatever stomach contents she had. Damon winced beside her and rubbed her back harder. She gasped hard between gags, struggling to catch her breath.

"It's okay. You're okay. Just breathe." He whispered in a tone she'd never heard from him before.

The world was still spinning around her, and when she thought she was done, she shifted to one side and collapsed towards the floor. Damon's hands wrapped under her shoulders and he lifted her up once more. Her neck felt too weak to hold her head up and it gave out, her head falling back.

He set her on her feet again, but her knees gave out. This time he caught her and held her up.

"You are fading fast, Elena." He said, one hand wrapped around her back, the other coming up to stroke her hair back from her face. "Elena, look at me."

She tried to, but her eyes were teary and swollen and it was hard to bring them to look at one point and stay there. Damon's hand came away from her hair and he hooked his fingers under her chin, brushing his thumb over her bottom lip.

"Focus." He instructed, and inside she fumed, because she was trying her best to do as he said. It was just so hard.

"Look at me." He repeated, his voice harder than before, and it held something akin to desperation that made her kick her brain into full gear and lift her eyes to his. "Hey." He whispered, barely audible, eyes roaming her face and checking for any glaringly obvious injuries. A large gash spread from her hairline and down her temple, and it was dripping blood down her cheek and neck. The skin around the wound looked bruised.

Elena opened her mouth to speak, to force words through her lips, but she couldn't form her thoughts into anything coherent. She mustered up all of her strength, and she tried to tell him 'my head hurts' or 'I feel sick again' or 'I need to lie down', 'I can't breathe right', 'my chest hurts', 'make it stop', anything to let him know how much pain she was in and how much she needed it to go away, needed him to make it go away, but the words that came out of her mouth didn't match her thoughts at all.

Instead, she mumbled,

"I look like her."

Damon watched her with concern on his face, frowning. Her words made no sense.

"What?" He whispered, raising his brows and lowering his eyes to keep her gaze. But she had no time to answer. Her eyes rolled back in her head and her legs gave out, and Damon was left lowering her body to the ground. He balanced her upper back on his knee, letting her head fall back, exposing her long neck to his hungry eyes. But feeding was the last thing on his mind right now.

He brushed her hair back from her forehead, looking her over again, and then a pang of _something_ registered in his brain. He lifted his gaze and looked around him. Something felt very, very wrong. He debated leaving her and running for the hills, but when he looked back down at her frail form he couldn't do it. She was vulnerable enough, and he felt an irrational need to keep her safe.

His gaze travelled around again, settling near the tree line. Amongst the shadows, blurred by leaves and branches, a figure dressed all in black stood stock-still, watching them. A rush of wind lifted Damon's hair and with it came a surge of power that made him shiver.

Decided, he wrapped an arm across her upper back and hooked another under her knees, lifting her feather-light body from the ground.

"Uppsy-daisy." He murmured, settling her in his grip. He shot another look towards their guest, then moved away from the wreckage with one thought in mind.

He needed to get her away from Mystic Falls. Now.

**A/N: Aaaand done. This one feels much better than the last one! I think I'm getting back in the swing of things. **

**I hope this is okay! I just felt like, after what happened with her car, she needed a more obvious injury and a little more trauma, especially considering the trauma she's been through before in car accidents. And I love caring Damon. He's wonderful. **

**Also, I wanted a reason for him looking around and being so sketchy when he carried her away. This felt good. **

**Anyways, leave me a review and let me know what you think! **

**Thanks in advance. **

**Much love,**

**Someone x**


	18. Don't

**A/N: Okay! Well hello all :) ****I hope you're still reading and enjoying. I'm trying my best to balance writing with homework and school work and coursework and blah blah blah, but it's pretty tricky! So please bare with me if I take a while to upload new one-shots. Thank you to everyone who keeps reading and reviewing!**

**This one is based on the most recent episode (holy freakin' jesus it was wonderful) and was requested by clois22. It's just Damon and Elena's feelings during that final scene, and it shows Damon's doubts and fears and Elena's unwavering confidence in her own feelings. Please give it a read and let me know what you think! I have several one-shots planned based on this episode, but feel free to send in any requests in case I haven't been asked already. **

**I am also (possibly) getting a beta reader soon, so you won't have to deal with my grammar and spelling for much longer :P **

**Credit where credit's due; clois22 for the excellent request! I was emotional writing this, and I hope I did it justice! **

**Disclaimer; Nothing you recognise belongs to me. **

**Apologies for any spelling and/or grammar mistakes! **

She feels him the minute he steps into the room, but it takes her a moment to relieve the tension in her throat before she can speak, and she needs another second to work out exactly what to say.

She settles on a soft "Hey," and continues clearing away the night's mess.

"Hey back." He replies.

"How was your night?" She asks him, putting away the remaining glasses and turning to face him.

"Awful." He says frankly, before throwing the query back at her.

"Same." She says gently. She wants to tell him all about it, but there is something in his tone that tells her he isn't quite done. Sure enough, he pushes himself away from the wall, uncrossing his arms, and speaks in a voice that makes the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.

"Elena," He says, making a noncommittal noise after her name, puzzling over his next words, "We need to talk."

She feels dread coil in her gut and her throat tightens again, leaving her head light and her mouth parched. She tries to swallow, and rolls her tongue around to gather fluid from her gums and cheeks, but they have nothing to offer her.

"I know that I'm sired to you, Damon." She admits, and the speed it leaves her lips with makes her question whether she'd really meant to say it out loud. But hearing the words ring in the air lifts some of the weight pressing down in her gut. "Caroline told me." She continues. "That's what you and Stefan were doing, isn't it?"

He nods then, almost imperceptibly, but with the intensity of her gaze it would have been hard for her to miss it. Damon keeps his eyes on her, and his heart feels heavier than it has in the longest time. He loves her so much it hurts, and he's finally, _finally _got her. And now he has to let her go.

"Is there a way to break it?" Elena asks him, and he can't tell if she looks hopeful or apprehensive. Or both. He wants to pull her to him right then and there and tell her that they can fix this and that everything will be fine, and that he can finally have his happily-ever-after, with her. But he knows it's not true, and he doesn't want to make things more painful than they have to be.

"Not exactly." He replies after some careful calculating. _Nothing I want to do._ "Which is why we need to talk."

_No, no, no no nonono, _she thinks, stepping towards him. Her words come out panicked and she can hear the waver in her own voice, but she no longer cares. She needs him to know...

"Tyler told me that the bond doesn't affect how I feel, just the way I act. My feelings for you haven't changed, Damon. Nothing's changed."

And then he's angry.

"Everything's changed, Elena!" In his head he's shouting, but his throat is too tight and his mouth is too dry and the words come out low and hoarse.

Her head hurts from over-thinking, and her mind is exhausted, but after hours of wondering and puzzling and worrying and wondering some more, she's come to a satisfying conclusion that has left her brain heavy, but her heart soaring. And she needs to share it, but she can't find the words she's looking for.

"Okay, fine, yeah," She admits, still in a state of panic, "I've changed. So have you, Damon. And I'm happy."

_Getting closer, _she thinks to herself, _just say it. _

"Just like you were yesterday morning before we knew about any of this." She continues, trying to force a smile and a laugh, but her cheeks are too ready to frown and her chest too ready to sob, and the words come out soft and breathy instead.

"You know what would make me happy?" He asks, not waiting for an answer, not wanting to give the tears time to fall. "Is to know that this entire time that I've been completely in love with you that what _you_ actually felt for _me_ was real."

"It is real." She says, once again without thinking, but she can tell that it's true by the way her heart lifts a little higher and the weight of the world gets a little lighter on her shoulders. He doesn't look convinced, and in this moment, from the pain and heart ache radiating from him, she knows exactly what he's going to say next.

"Damon, I know that it is and I know what you're about to do and please, don't do this to me." She walks towards him, her legs shaking and her voice thick, but he steps back, out of her reach.

"I don't wanna do this, Elena." He tries to shout again, and he's a little more successful, his voice sounding fuller in his ears, but his head is buzzing and his ear are ringing and he can't tell if he sounds just as hurt out loud as he does in his own mind.

"I'm not the good guy, remember? I'm the selfish one. I take what I want, I do what I want. I lie to my brother, I fall in love with his girl, I don't do the right thing!" The words come pouring out and he can't find the switch to make them stop, and by the end he's shouting, but he meets her teary gaze and his brain stops humming. Clarity pushes in, and he calms his nerves and dampens his anger enough to tell her exactly why he is about to do what he is about to do, and he lets all of the sadness and anguish and _devastation _he feels reach his eyes. He looks away from her and lets the realisation wash over him.

"But I have to do the right thing by _you._"

She can't take this. His words, his tone, his expression, his _hurt,_ almost rips a wail from her throat, but she holds it in check and channels all of the pent-up despair into one solid goal; showing him just how wrong he is.

She steps closer and grips his hand in hers, bringing his cool palm up to rest on her chest, above her heart. He looks shocked for a moment and she forces herself to speak, to explain why she's done this.

"Does this feel wrong?" She asks him. He looks down at her with hooded blue eyes because he's almost resigned to his task and he doesn't want her to know that she's making him doubt himself. His throat is burning with the effort to hold back the sobs.

She lifts her hand to the side of his face and he has to fight the urge to lean into her touch, trying to pull away from it, trying to pull away from the whole situation. But he can't. His neck won't let him move away from her soft fingers, and his head tells him he needs to stay where he is, with her.

"Does this feel wrong?" She whispers again, and this time she sounds uncertain. For one fleeting moment he wonders if she's questioning herself, but it doesn't take him long to realise that he's kept his expression as stoic as he can, and that she's wondering if maybe to him, it _does_ feel wrong. But it doesn't. God, it doesn't.

He's almost crying when he feels her fingers slide into his hair at the nape of his neck and he wants to tell her just how right it feels, but he can't get the words to come because he has a loyalty to his brother that is nearly unshakable. She looks up at him with wide doe-eyes, and he knows he can't bring himself to break her heart yet. He needs to get his own under control first.

He shakes his head at her again, and she closes her eyes in relief. The anvil pressing into her gut vanishes and she can breathe again, and everything feels like it might just be okay.

And in her head, those words she's been trying to force out push their way into view, and when he finally pulls her in to hold her, she thinks, _I love you. _

He cradles her head against his shoulder, her forehead pressed into his neck and her tears rolling across his skin. In his head he practices the speech he'll have to give Stefan in the morning, and the words he'll have to say to her one day soon, and it breaks his heart and forces tears to pour from under his lids.

_I love you, and that's why I have to let you go. _

**A/N: And done! I hope this isn't where the writers are going, but I hope it demonstrates what Damon and Elena might have been thinking during this scene. **

**So guys, please drop me a review and let me know what you think! **

**Thanks in advance. **

**Much love, **

**Someone x **


	19. I'm Happy

**A/N: Hi guys! Once again, thank you for the responses this story is getting! It's fantastic . I really do love you, all! I will apologise in advance for the massive authors note, but I have something to ask you all. **

**If I were to write a story, like an original full-length story, and put it up on Fictionpress or something, would any of you read it? I have a whole plot planned out, I just need to find the time to write it! So let me know if you would be interested in that, it might influence my decision on whether or not to actually put it online or not. **

**Anyways, back to relevant stuff! **

**This is another 4x08 one-shot, because that episode left us with so much to write about! It was fantastic, I can't quite get over the fact that our OTP is finally canon. Jeez. So yes, this one is set around the morning-after scene. It's another thoughts-and-feelings one, with a tiny bit added onto the end. **

**Warning; some suggestive content! It's not detailed enough to be M-rated, but you know what's going on. **

**Credit where credit's due; clois22, who gave me the awesome request . **

**Disclaimer; I own nothing. Nada. Zilch. I don't know why I have to say this every chapter, it just depresses me. **

**Apologies for any spelling and/or grammar mistakes! **

Even after over 150 years, the sun still makes him flinch when he opens his eyes. He blinks blearily for a moment, then stretches an arm out onto the cold, empty bed beside him. He frowns, and pushes his body up a little, glancing around the room. _Where is she? _

"Elena?" He calls softly, because his voice is still husky from sleep and it's the first thing he's said since waking.

"Hey." Her voice comes from the doorway, and he twists to see her standing there in her underwear, with one of his shirts wrapped around her shoulders and buttoned at her stomach.

"Hey." Damon purrs, suppressing a grin as she hops onto the bed, lying on her back beside him. She smiles across at him and his insides melt. "Thought you might have left." His tone doesn't betray the insecurity he'd felt for a moment when he hadn't awoken to the smell of her hair under his nose, and the curve of her body curled against his own. He reaches a hand between them to play with the hem of his shirt.

"No, I don't have to be at school for...at least twenty minutes ago." She grins down at him, curling her fingers into the hair at the back of his head. He hums his approval and kisses her softly. When she pulls back, one hand against his cheek, the other still threaded at the nape of his neck, he smiles with a look of wonder in his eyes. His fingers work her hair away from his shirt and he tugs teasingly at the fabric, shifting and repositioning it a couple of times because he just can't believe she's really there, really wearing it, and touching it makes it so much more real.

"What's that face?" She asks, smiling up at him, but there's something akin to confusion behind the grin and that surprises him.

"What face?" He asks, eyes travelling from his nimble fingers to her gleaming eyes. He smirks gently, and when he meets her gaze he lets his bright blue orbs burn into hers, and they drop a shade darker.

"That face." She whispers. He can't stop smiling, and he rolls his eyes to the side, playing off his words as though they mean nothing, when he knows that deep down, they mean absolutely everything.

"I'm happy."

* * *

She's everywhere. Her hands travel from his face to his shoulders and she drops her lips to his chest and travels lower still, soft touches making his muscles jump. Damon closes his eyes and lets her, savoring in every touch, every kiss, every soft breath against his skin. He presses her cool hand to his heated face and purrs her name. He can see her through barely open eyes as she looks up at him and smiles, and he knows that she's happy because she's making him happy, and that makes him happier still and it hurts his head to follow the never-ending cycle, so he stops thinking and just lets himself _feel_.

He's everywhere. Elena can't keep track. One moment his mouth is on hers, his hands in her hair, on her face, and the next they're in a whole new zone that makes her blush to think about. And it's fun, it is, but this teasing and touching isn't what she wants right now, so she drags his hand away from her chest and places it where she wants it, digging his fingers under the hem of her underwear, just in case he didn't get the message.

He did, and the next thing she knows she's on her back and he's above her and everything else is irrelevant because right now, she needs nothing but him. His mouth is pressed to the crook of her neck and he's breathing out harsh pants against the skin, and she mirrors him in action and pattern. It's less frantic than the night prior. She finds it hard to keep quiet, but for some reason she feels she has to, and he seems to think the same, so she lets out pants and opens her mouth in silent moans and groans and whines and cries. And when she can't take it anymore she digs her nails into his back. He lets out a sharp cry at the same time as she does and he rocks clumsily for a moment, then drops his head to her shoulder and they let their breath fill the air around them.

She apologises for the scratches and he kisses her in forgiveness, but he really doesn't care. She can mark him all she wants if it means he gets to do _that _again. He moves to the side to take his weight from her body and gives her a sated smile.

She closes her eyes for a moment and relaxes back into the pillows. Her first time as a vampire was enjoyable, yes, but she's feeling that three rounds in one night was a little too much, because everything is heightened, every nerve more sensitive, and she's aching already. He whispers a tender 'you okay?' in her ear for the third time, and for the third time she says 'yes' and stretches out beside him.

He watches her as she gathers her things for the day with a smile on his face, because he knows that it's him she'll come home to at the end of the day. And when she asks him why he's grinning, his smirk widens and he rolls onto his back, tucking his hands behind his head. He embraces the sting on his shoulder blades because he knows why it's there, and with a contented sigh he replies;

"I'm happy."

**A/N: Done! I hope this one was okay? It took me a while to work out how to write it without having to up the rating, so I hope it was still alright to read. **

**Drop me a review, let me know what you think! **

**And don't forget to tell me your thoughts on me writing an original story. I'd love to know what you think. **

**Thanks in advance! **

**Much love, **

**Someone x**


	20. Author's Note 3, Please Read!

**A/N: This is just an Authors note guys, because it's 00:10 here in England. **

**Happy fucking New Year. I love you **_**all**_**. I love my family and my friends and my peers and my post-man and the girl who hands out Christmas cards with 'love from's when she's five and doesn't really know why she's doing it and what it all means. I love the people who care and the people who don't, and I hope every single one of you has an amazing year, and know that through every shitty moment, every tear, every sob, every bump in the road, I care, and I'm telling you to pick yourself up, dust yourself off and move in the right direction with the right people. **

**You can decide what that means to you. **

**Happy 2013 everybody, make it a good one.**

**And on another note, I'm almost done on a new chapter for this, so feel free to hold your breath (but please don't die). I know it's been a while! **

**And in the mean time, if you haven't already, check out my new multi-chapter fic 'The Shifters'. It's odd, but give it a shot and let me know what you think. **

**I hope you all had a wonderful Christmas or Hanukkah or whatever else you might do, and I hope you get everything you're looking for in the new year. **

**I'll be back soon! **

**Much love, **

**Someone x **


	21. And That Was That (6)

**A/N: Hey all! Sorry it's been so long, I've been working on other things. I hope you're all still around and eager to read. **

**Okay, this one is set after 4x05. The beginning is a little AU. Okay...very AU. But I needed it to make the plot work. And yes, if you've read any of my other stories, you'll recognise the start of this. I've used it before, in another one-shot. But this one ends differently. **

**It's part 6, the final chapter, in my story arc. I know it's kind of an abrupt ending to that, but I honestly couldn't think of more to add to it, and it seemed like a nice way of rounding it off. **

**Hope you all enjoy, and drop me a review! I apologise for any tears that may be shed in the course of reading. **

**Disclaimer; I own nothing you recognise. Except the first part. That's mine. **

From a very young age Elena Gilbert had had a confidant. It was a ritual she'd begun at Christmas, when her mother and father asked her to write her Christmas list. It was tradition to write her letter to Santa and burn it on the fire on the very first day of December, and it would travel on the wind all the way to the North Pole where Santa would collect all the pieces together and gather her presents in time for Christmas.

One year, she asked her mother, '_how does the letter know where to go?'_and her mother replied '_it just does, dear. Letters are clever like that. They find their own way to where they need to go.'_So she'd asked, '_do I have to put an address on my letter, mama? If they can find their own way?'_and her mother thought it over, and said '_No, I guess not.'_

And that was that.

And then, the year after, something terrible happened.

Her best friend left. Connie, her name was. The house was reduced to ashes, and Connie and her parents all left on the wind in the night. Just like the letters. At least, that's what her mother told her. And Elena came into the kitchen and asked her mother, with teary eyes and a watery smile, _'If Connie went away on the wind, can I still write to her?'_And her mother cried again.

After a moment, her mother replied, _'Of course you can, sweetheart. But you know, how Santa can't write back?'_Elena nodded, _'Well, Connie can't write back either.'_And when Elena asked why, her mother said, _'Because that's how letters work.'_

And that was that.

So, when Christmas rolled around that year, Elena wrote two letters. One went to Santa, with a bike and a Barbie doll and a picture of the exact pony she wanted, and a very polite thank you note, because her mother always told her to say her 'please's and 'thank you's. And the other went to Connie. It read;

_Dear Connie,_

_I can't believe you're not here for Christmas this year. I've asked for loads of nice things. I asked for that Barbie you showed me, because I was always real jealous of it. And I asked for a pony again. I know I probably won't get one, Santa always has no ponies at Christmas. I guess too many people ask for them._

_We miss you at school. Nuthin' much has happened. I get to play Mary this year! That makes me a bit sad though because Mary was your part. Always. Did I say that I missed you already?_

_I can't talk much now, it's getting late and I gotta send my letters now._

_Don't worry about not replying, I know you can't._

_B'bye!_

_From,_

_Elena._

She burned them both on the flame and watched the blackened papers flit up the chimney with a small smile on her face. Connie would like that letter.

And every year on December 1st, Elena sent her letters. When she turned eight, she found out Santa wasn't real, but she still wrote to him. Because it was tradition. And she wanted to believe that someone still read her letter. Because she didn't want to stop believing that Connie got her letters either.

Then, when she turned ten, the family cat died. Old age, her father said. And she asked him _'Where to things go when they die, daddy?'_and he replied, _'To heaven.'_Elena asked him if she could write to people in heaven. Her father made no reply.

She didn't write anymore letters to Connie, not for a long time. Not until her parents died.

She wrote a very long letter then, and it was untidy and tear stained and the paper was crumpled. But that didn't matter. Because she was going to burn it, and it would fly away on the wind and nobody would ever get to see it. She knew now that Connie didn't get to read her letters, but she kept the addressee the same. Because it was her own little tradition. That letter held everything she was thinking, every hope, every fear, every tear she'd ever shed and the reasons behind it. It was angry and sad and heart-felt and heart-breaking all in one four-page package. That was the last time she wrote to Connie.

And there she was now, hand poised over a sheet of pristine lined paper, pen clutched between her fingers. She took a few deep breaths before steadying herself and composing her letter.

_Dear Connie,_

_I'm sorry it's been so long, but I have something I need to get off my chest, and I don't know who to talk to._

_See, the thing is...I'm in trouble._

_I know I've said that before but this time is different. Because this time, there's nobody here to help me._

_I have a friend. His name is Damon, and he's...he's hard to describe. He's my best friend and my worst enemy in one go, I can't really explain it. He's my boyfriends big brother. Yes, I have a boyfriend. Kind of. Things are...rocky._

_Damon and I have...fallen out. In that, he's upset with me and I don't know how to fix it. I'm no good at this. I've never had to go crawling back to anybody before, they always come to me. Writing that down, I realise how bigheaded it seems._

_He means so much to me. I've never said that out loud before, and I don't think I'm really ready to say it now. I don't know when I'll be ready. If I'll be ready. Maybe that's the problem, maybe he needs to hear me say it? If I could just tell him, just say..._

_It's just a few words, right? Then why is it so hard?_

_He's my best friend. I don't really know when that happened, but there it is. I don't know what I'd do without him. I mean...I love Caroline, and I love Bonnie, and I loved you, but Damon? He's always there. He's always just a phone call away, and I know that when I need him he'll come running. I've never had anybody who'd do that for me._

_He makes me feel__alive__, which is more important than ever right now. I'll tell you why, some day. You wouldn't believe me anyway. He's fun, and he challenges me, which, up until now, was a good thing. Now he's given me a challenge and I don't like it at all. He wants me to 'come back to him'. I don't even know what that means!_

_I wish you could write back and tell me what to do._

_On another note, I've had a terrible day. I couldn't even begin to explain how bad it's been. But now I feel...weird. Again, it's hard to explain. I guess I need to talk to somebody else about this, somebody who can give me answers._

_I'm sorry I'm bothering you with this. It's not your problem, you don't have to deal with any of it._

_I've been writing it in my diary, too. Today was the first day I wrote anything in there in a very long time. I'm...I'm giving up hope. I know that doesn't make sense to you, but it is what it is. I think I might really be done._

_Stefan (boyfriend) and Damon are trying to help me, they really are. But with Damon mad at me and Stefan...being Stefan, I don't think anything they do will be enough. Especially after today._

_I'm gonna go. Maybe I'll see you soon, who knows?_

_Love you and miss you, always._

_Elena._

And she took the letter downstairs, creeping down the hall on shaky legs and stopping in the sitting room, crouching down in front of the roaring fire. The flames make her flinch, now. Another perk of her transition. She held the paper over the flames and watched it's ashes drift up the chimney and into the night, sighing.

In her room, she wrote another letter. Two in one night. It was like Christmas time all over again.

This one was to Jeremy. And Stefan. And Damon. And Caroline, and Bonnie, and Matt and Tyler and even April got a say.

This one was a goodbye.

She left it on the counter downstairs, along with her daylight ring and her diary.

* * *

It was quiet when she reached the top of the falls. The moon was bright in the sky, but the stars were shying away and a blanket of velvet black stretched out to the horizon. She took a seat on the dew-damp grass and skimmed her fingers over the blades, a small smile on her face. Yes, she was in pain, and yes, she knew she'd failed. But it'd be over soon, and that one comfort was enough to make muscles she didn't even know she _had_ relax.

She did have regrets, though. She would forever regret leaving Damon without fixing things. She would regret never telling him those few little words that existed only between her and the wind. She wanted him to know, she did, and she'd told him so, in her letter. She'd told him that she had things she wanted to tell him, that there were words she couldn't bring herself to say, and that she hoped that would be comfort enough for him. Comfort and closure.

The sky was getting lighter with each passing minute, and with each moment Elena felt her heart rise at the prospect of relief, and her eyes well with anguish of regret. It was odd, really, sitting on the grass under the dull dusk light with a smile on her face and tear tracks on her cheeks.

And that's how Damon found her.

Damon was angry. Scratch that, he was furious. How the _hell_ did she think she could do this? She had no right to leave like this, to take off with nothing but a letter and a ring and a mediocre goodbye that left him wishing for more. She didn't get to run away, didn't get to take the easy way out. He'd tried, once, after the werewolf bite. And he knew now that it would have been the biggest mistake of his life.

"Elena?" He called, and she could hear the frown in his voice. She squeezed her eyes closed and sighed.

"What do you want, Damon." She turned to find him standing some way behind her, her letter scrunched in one hand, her daylight ring folded into the other. He kept a tight grip on his anger, ready to lash out once he'd talked some sense back into her. He held the ring out to her.

"Put it back on." He said, sounding drained. Elena shook her head.

"I don't want to." She murmured. She was ninety-nine per cent sure that was true.

"Elena, please." His voice was soft, but she could hear the angry undertone.

"There you go again, being mad. At me."

Damon clapped his hands against his thighs, exasperated.

"Elena, I'm sorry! Okay?" He cried finally, fisting his hands at his sides. "I was wrong to put you on the spot. I was stupid, blaming you for everything. It's all my fault. Just put the damn ring back on."

She could hear the insincerity in his tone, and knew the words were intended to drag her away from the brink. She shook her head at him.

"You've nothing to be sorry for." She whispered. "You're right, I'm the one who should be apologising." She turned to look at him again, then, with fresh tears in her eyes. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for everything, Damon. I'm sorry for every time I've made you feel like you weren't good enough."

He bristled, then, because this was the beginning of what he'd been waiting for her to say since this stupid fall-out began.

She stood up and crossed to him, bare feet gliding through the long grass. Damon watched her with wide, teary blue eyes, his anger melting into something much harder to deal with; sadness.

"You don't deserve all the crap I've given you. You're a good man, Damon." Her voice was choked by the tears threatening to fall anew, but she held them back. She needed to be strong for him. "And...and you should to be surrounded by people who know just how special you are, and people who can tell you...people who can tell you how-how much you mean to them. People who can tell you that they love you, and that they appreciate you every second of every day."

He choked on a sob. This wasn't fair. She didn't get to tell him the things he'd been praying to hear, and then leave him. He couldn't let her do that. This was all it took; all he needed to forgive her. He'd wanted her to acknowledge that she was wrong, to admit what she'd been keeping from him. He just hadn't wanted it to happen like this.

He wasn't holding back his own tears now, letting them fall unbidden down his cheeks. Elena reached up a hand and cupped his face, her thumb brushing over his jaw.

"I can't give you those things, I don't know how. And for that I am so, so sorry."

"That's all I needed to hear!" Damon cried. His voice was breathy and hoarse, and he lifted his hand to take hers, clutching it in his grip. Her letter lay crumpled in the grass at his feet. "Elena, please, don't-don't do this. Just put your ring back on, we'll go home, and we'll talk, okay?"

She shook her head and stepped back. _There, _she thought,_ I've told him. He knows. No regrets. _

"Please." Damon whispered. "Elena, please."

"I'm okay." She said quietly. "This is the right thing to do."

"No, no it isn't." Damon hurried to her side and knelt beside her in the grass. "Come on, come home." He whispered. She turned her gaze up to his. "I need you to come home." He said. She felt something inside of her snap; some of her resolve break away. He _needed _her. How could she leave him when he said that?

"No more challenges." He said. "No more...ultimatums, whatever. Just come back to us. To me."

The sky was bright and she knew the sun would come up soon. And that huge part of her that had told her that this was the right thing to do had shrank away, and the rest of her was screaming for her to take her damn daylight ring and get her ass back home.

Hesitantly, she reached her hand out towards Damon, and with a sigh of relief he dropped her ring into her open palm. She slipped it on her finger and sat back with Damon, feeling the first rays of the day heating her skin. Damon breathed out a laugh and, in a move that made her chuckle slightly too, wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her against his side.

"Don't you _ever _do that again." He whispered against her hair. His tone was light, conversational, but his body was still rigid and that told her just how much this had scared him.

"I won't." She muttered gently. And she meant it, she did. As long as she had him by her side, _on_ her side, she would be alright.

"Damon?" She asked quietly. He mumbled an 'mhm' against her temple. "You didn't just say that to get me to put the ring back on, did you? I mean...we're okay now, right?"

Damon rested his chin against her head and smiled, letting the sun warm his face. He breathed in deeply, holding the girl beside him tightly against his body. She was small and soft and warm and _alive. _As alive as a dead person can be, at least.

"Yeah, Elena." He said finally. "We're okay."

And that was that.

**A/N: Aaaand that's it! That is the end of the story arc. I know it was kind of sudden, but I was running out of things to write about, and this seemed to work as a way to put an end to it. **

**I hope it was okay? Leave me a review, let me know! **

**Thanks in advance. **

**Much love, **

**Someone x **


	22. The Right Thing

**A/N: Hey all! I have another new chapter for you! Hope you enjoy this one, it's one of my more...angsty one-shots. **

**This deals with the events of 4x09, when Damon let's Elena go (I was heartbroken. Seriously). It's mainly a thoughts and feelings-y one, with a bit of an extension at the end. Hope you all enjoy reading! **

**Thanks to psawyer1 for reading this one through before I posted it :) **

**Disclaimer; Nothing you recognise belongs to me, sadly. **

"I was supposed to do the right thing by you, and the right thing by my brother. Which is what I'm gonna do right now."

She frowns up at him, because she really doesn't understand how this is the right thing to do at all. The muscles in his face pull tight with the effort to keep his expression neutral, but the corners of his mouth curve down, and it's a slight move, but it tells her just how much he doesn't want to do this.

"You're gonna go home." He says simply.

"What? No, Damon-."

He cuts her off before his emotions get the better of him, before she has a chance to get under his skin. He needs to do this, and he needs to do it now. But it hurts _so much. _

"I'm gonna stay here with Jeremy. I'm gonna help him complete the mark, I'll teach him how to hunt, I'll protect him. And we'll kill vampires. Without you." His vision blurs at the edges and every fibre of his being is telling him to pull her to him and never let her leave. But loyalty wins out, as always, and he forces his discontent to the back of his mind and focuses on his promise to Stefan.

_No, _she thinks, and she wants to say it out loud, but there's a barrier between her brain and her tongue that was never there before, and it forces the words back with a violence that makes her ache to the core.

"Damon, please." She begs, and there are tears in her eyes, threatening to overflow. It makes her vision swim but for some reason they won't fall, and they build up higher still.

"I'm setting you free, Elena. This is what I want."

_No, it isn't, _she thinks angrily, but again, that barrier lifts up and the words won't come. They strike it hard, but it's resilient. The words pound harder and harder against the newly placed wall and it makes her head pulse angrily, but that damn barrier doesn't shift.

"This is what will make me happy."

The instinct to argue is there, somewhere, but it won't rush to the forefront of her mind like it did before. It hangs back, resigned. She swallows hard and tries to bring that fire, that energy, into play, but it hurts so much it makes her knees buckle. She swallows again and dampens her tongue, but it doesn't matter now. Talking won't help. It can't. Because she can't make herself form any words that would make him change his mind.

His whole body aches as he watches her. He sees the resolution set in; she's going to leave. And part of him is happy; it is, because he's doing the right thing by her and the right thing by his brother. But a much larger part of him is aching with a burn that eats at his chest and stills his heart. It's hard to breathe through this kind of pain, and all he wants to do is lie down and let the sobs rise and the tears fall, but he has to be strong now. He has to show her that this is okay, that this is what he wants.

"Okay." She whispers, hoarse. She nods softly and tries to smile, but she can't bring herself to be happy, even though the whole damn point in this sire bond is to be happy because she's pleasing him. And somewhere deep down she knows that he's not happy at all, but he's had his say, and the verdict is in; he wants her to leave. It's what will make him happy. And she realises with a throb of pain that that is all that matters. His happiness is all that matters, sire bond or not, and if he wants her to leave, then she must.

* * *

He waits beside the car to open the door for her. Every inch of him hurts; his chest wants to heave and his limbs want to collapse but he holds himself together because he _has to. _He has to show her that he's okay. And he's doing a damn fine job, considering the way his gut is curling and his head is pounding, and his jaw tenses to keep the words he so desperately wants to say at bay.

Elena turns to glance at Jeremy, her heart aching because she wants to hug him and remind him how much she loves him, but she knows he has to make the first move, and all he does is raise a hand and offer her half a smile. She returns it with as much enthusiasm and double the pain, then turns to Damon.

"I was ready to fight you on this," She starts, her head shaking lightly, "but suddenly every part of my body is telling me that I need to get in this car and leave you."

And it's true; every fibre of her being is screaming that she needs to leave, now, no matter how much she wants to stay.

Those words cut him to the core, and he takes a minute before replying because the lump in his throat proves too hard to talk over. He blinks back the tears and hardens his face, looking down at her with what he hopes is a neutral expression.

"So do it."

Those are the words that seal the deal. She hears the instruction and she knows she has to leave, that there's no arguing now, not even if she could pound down the barrier and force her words through. But she has to do something to show him that she cares, despite his stupid sire bond and his stupid instructions. So she does the one thing her body will let her do; she steps closer to him, eyes on his lips, and she knows he knows her intention, but he doesn't pull away. He swallows and his lip twitches, but he doesn't pull away.

He closes his eyes and lets her kiss him, even though he knows he shouldn't. He can't help it; he wants to pull her close and never let her leave, wants to screw this sire bond and take her back inside, let himself love her, but he can't. So, with a resigned expression to hide the way his muscles twitch to pull his lips into a frown, he opens the car door and gestures for her to climb in.

She watches him as she climbs into the car, and his body follows hers sideways out of instinct. It's tearing him apart to send her away, but its best, and he holds that idea in the forefront of his mind because it's the only thing keeping him sane as he closes the car door and watches them drive away.

Elena makes it until they hit the main road before the tears fall. They're silent, at first, slipping unnoticed down her cheeks, until the sobs kick in and her shoulders wrack with the pain. She hears Bonnie asking her if she's okay, and as much as she doesn't want her friend to worry she can't bring herself to say yes, so she shakes her head and lets the sobs come harder and faster. She's shaking, every muscle burning, her heart clenching and her brain pounding and it hurts _so damn much. _

She wants Bonnie to drop her off at the boarding house, but she worries that she might run into Stefan there and that's the last thing she wants, so instead Bonnie takes her home, back to the Gilbert house, and drops her off with a questioning glance.

"Do you want me to stay?" She asks softly, fully prepared to drop everything she'd planned that night and stay by her friends side. But Elena shakes her head.

"I just...wanna be on my own. Thank you, though." Elena replies. Her voice is hoarse once more from crying. "And thank you for the ride."

Bonnie nods and smiles her 'you're welcome', then pulls away from curb with one more sympathetic glance.

The minute she locks the door she breaks down again. Back to the wood, her knees give out and she sinks to the floor, heaving sobs shaking her frame. She doesn't hold back, like she tried to in the car, and she lets them come with the force they require to ease the ache in her heart that just hasn't quit all night. It feels good to let it all out, and part of her never wants this to stop because she knows it's only a temporary relief.

She doesn't even have the strength to carry herself upstairs, so she locks the door and collapses back to the floor, staring straight ahead at everything and nothing, trying hard not to think about how much she wishes Damon was with her.

Damon makes it until he slams the bedroom door before succumbing to a similar fate. He knows Jeremy is downstairs, gazing blankly into the fire, and he knows Professor Shane is around somewhere, so he refuses to sob, but his tears cascade down his cheeks and his breath hiccups unevenly. He lies on his side on the bed and stares through glassy eyes at the empty space beside him, one hand curled under his head, the other fisting the sheets beside him. He punches the bed angrily and turns his face into the pillow, tremors wracking his frame, breathing heavily and steadily, trying to calm his racing heart and stem the flow of tears.

A knock on the door sparks him out of his stupor, and a voice calls through.

"I'm making some dinner if you want some." And then, after a pregnant pause, "I don't even know if you need to eat. Stupid question, doesn't matter."

Damon lets out an angry growl and sits up, dashing tears from his cheeks and puffing out a breath. With shaky limbs and red-rimmed eyes, he makes his way over to the door, fully intent on throwing it open and snapping the stupid Professors neck. But when he reaches the handle he thinks of Jeremy downstairs, and that inevitably leads to thoughts of Elena, and he clenches the handle in a closed fist and presses his forehead to the wood.

Then, with a heavy sigh, he clicks the lock and trudges back to his bed, laying back down on his side, staring, once more, at the empty space beside him and wishing that she was there to fill it.

**A/N: Ta-da! Hope that was alright? Please please please review and let me know what you though, I love getting feedback . **

**Thanks in advance, everyone. **

**Much love, **

**Someone x **


	23. We Can't

**A/N: Hey all! Thanks so much for the reviews on the last chapter, I can't believe how much feedback this story has gotten. **

**Here's the next chapter; this one was requested by clois22, and it's a heart-breaking scene that I tried to make less heart-breaking. It's the mistletoe scene in 4x09, but...well, it goes more to the Delena fan's liking. I know it's really out of character, and it didn't turn out that great, but I liked it as a story idea so it's going up anyway. **

**Credit where credit's due; clois22 for the idea! It's a beautiful scene and I hope I did it some kind of justice. **

**Disclaimer; I own nothing. Never have, never will. Imagine if I wrote TV shows? Jesussss, how depressing would they be. **

God, she looks so happy.

Damon watches her with half a smile playing on his lips as she and Jeremy reminisce over box after box of Christmas junk, each item bringing a spark to her gaze and a laugh to her lips as she remembers the stories behind it.

"Hey, check this out." Jeremy says, the smile evident in his words as he remembers just what's funny about the item he's picked from the box. Elena laughs softly too, and at Bonnie's questioning glance she says;

"Jenna used that to make out with Logan Fell."

All present give a soft laugh, and Damon can't help the quirk of his lip, too.

And then her eyes are on his, and she looks so happy it hurts, with her doe-eyes gazing his way and that easy smile that makes his heart melt. She beckons him in, and his smile widens, but it's insincere and he breaks their gaze because he knows that she can tell he's hurting.

It's a quiet night, and warm, for winter. He can see the stars through the trees, twinkling white against a velvet background that stretches for miles, over the woods and into the distance. At any other time he would have thought it oddly romantic, but right now romance is the last thing on his mind. He hears her move, and turns back to see her grab something from the box and make her way to him.

She dances the leaves against her fingers and comes to stand near him, altogether too close; she smells different, her usual vanilla and coconut replaced by a soft cinnamon scent that makes his eyelids flutter when he breathes her in.

"With all the drama you're missing the actual fun part." She teases gently. He smiles lightly again and drops his gaze, wringing his hands together to relieve the itch in his palms; he wants to touch her, but he knows he shouldn't.

And then she's lifting the sprig above their heads, and her eyes are gazing at his face, wide and shining with something he can't place, and he knows they can't, knows he can't kiss her because if he does the walls he's so carefully placed will come crumbling down, and he just can't deal with that right now.

But that thing in her eyes, that shimmer that he couldn't place, is still there and it's calling to him in ways he didn't even know where possible, and he finds himself curling a hand around her hip and drawing her in between his knees before he knows what he's doing.

The kiss is soft, at first; barely brushing his lips to hers, but she melts against him all the same, one hand coming up to cup the back of his head, the other resting on his leather-clad arm. A sound something like a whimper passes through his lips and she pulls back, resting her forehead against his.

"We can't." Damon says softly, but his hand is still at her waist and they're still sharing their breaths. She presses herself closer to him and he closes his knees against her hips; it's an unconscious move, but they both know its implications. He curses himself for his lack of control when it comes to her. She leans in again and kisses him once more, angling her mouth against his and running her tongue along the seam of his lips. He opens up to her without meaning to and his tongue deepens the kiss without consent from any other body part. And just when he's letting himself relax into it, she pulls away again.

"We just did." Elena murmurs. He lifts his spare hand and tucks a lock of hair behind her ear. He opens his mouth to speak, to tell her what he knows he needs to say, but she beats him to it.

"One more day." She says gently, and he frowns at first, before she elaborates. "One more secret, selfish day."

"Elena..."

"Please?" She begs, whispering the words so close to his lips that he can't bring himself to say no.

"Tonight." He replies. "One more night, and I need to tell Stefan."

The smile that lights up her face is like nothing he's seen before. She throws her arms around his shoulders and he hugs her back with everything he has because a huge part of him knows that this might be one of the last times he gets to.

"Will you come inside now?" She asks, stepping away and taking his hand, tugging him gently from his perch. He follows with a half-smile curling one corner of his lip, twining his fingers with hers, purely because he can and he wants to. She beams up at him and leads him around to where she was before, sitting cross-legged opposite Jeremy and Bonnie.

Damon tenses when he comes into view, Jeremy's eyes trailing him and Bonnie's watching him with a gaze he finds hard to label. Elena's hand brushes his knee, and he drops his eyes to see her looking up at him with a warm smile.

"Come and sit down." She says quietly. Damon's eyes travel once more to the pair before them, and tension builds to an almost palpable state before Bonnie offers him a soft smile, and Jeremy, following her lead, nods. Damon sits in the chair behind Elena, and she shuffles back to settle between his legs once more, turning to press a kiss to the inside of his knee.

"Whoa!" Jeremy's voice breaks the quiet, holding up a mangled old decoration that drags a laugh from Elena's throat the minute she lays eyes on it. She reaches out to take it, and when Bonnie asks what it is, Elena and Jeremy launch into their tale.

Damon sits and listens to the tale with half a smile playing on his lips and one hand curled into Elena's hair, fingers grazing her scalp in a way he knows makes her lids grow heavy and her body melt. She curls against him, laughing softly as Bonnie relays her favourite Christmas story, with her head resting against his knee.

Outside, the stars shine brighter as the sky grows darker still, and Damon turns his gaze to it, breathing out a long breath. With the girl he loves pressed to his leg, his fingers tangled in her hair, a smile on her lips and a matching one on his, he decides that yes, the night sky out here is very romantic after all.

**A/N: I know the ending sucks and it's out of character and everything but it was sweet and I wish the episode had been able to go down more like this, because it would have saved everyone a whole lot of heart ache. **

**But anyways, leave me a review and let me know what you think! **

**Thanks in advance. **

**Much love, **

**Someone x **


	24. Come To Me

**A/N: Sorry, I know it's been a while (again) but I was kind of waiting for inspiration from the new episode before I wrote anything.**

**105 reviews. 105. I cannot express just how much I love every single one of you, I really can't. I just...I don't even know what to say. Apart from I love you. Get in your cars, right now, and come to me. I can't pull that off as well as Damon, can I? But seriously, I can't even express just how appreciative I am of you, all. I really can't. Thank you. **

**I have some good news, and then some other news that kind of counteracts the good news so really, there's no news. But I'll tell you anyway. **

**I'm finished my exams until the summer; yay! I'd like to tell you that that means I'll be writing more fanfiction, but, alas, it does not. I'm working on a piece of original writing (still) that I've been really in the mood to do lately, so I'll be using a lot of my extra time to do that. So you might still have to bear with me. **

**Anyways, this one is set in 4x10 (oh my fucking god that episode was fantastic asdfghjkl), and it's just one of those ones that you like so much; a thoughts and feelings-y lil' thing that focuses on what our faves were thinking during the phone-call scene. **

**Disclaimer; I own nothinggggg. **

**Apologies for any spelling and/or grammar mistakes. **

She's been taking her days one step at a time since he sent her away. Her chest feels heavy, like a weight is pressing into the bone and it's making it hard to suck in the air she no longer needs. But she tries, because it's a habit that's too hard to kick.

And when she's dialling his number, her thumbs shaky over the screen, the weight is pressing in more than it ever has, and it aches with a pain that's almost too much to handle. But she fights through it and hopes that it'll get better in time.

The dial tone has never sounded louder.

It's never taken anybody so long to answer a phone before, she's sure, and when the phone chimes in her ear for the eighth time she thinks he's not going to answer, and she debates hanging up because that weight isn't taking the situation lightly.

And then a sound reaches her ears and it's the sweetest music she's ever heard.

He answers the phone because he couldn't stand leaving it any longer. He misses her, more than anything in the world, and it's only been a few days. _God, _he thinks, _whipped isn't even the word._ But there's something else bothering him, and it's a heavy pressure against his shoulders, crushing his upper body in on itself. It's agony, and it's been there all week and it just won't shift no matter what he does. Something in his head tells him that speaking to her might just take some of the burden away.

"Hope your day's going better than mine." He says. "Gotta say, I'm liking the odds." He looks out into the trees around him, and it's not much of sight when all he can picture in his head is _her_. Her face, fresh and bright the morning after, and her hair between his fingers, and her lips just before she kisses him, and compared to that the beauty of the moonlit forest in the dead of night is just...nothing.

"Stefan knows about us."

She doesn't want to steer the conversation down this road, but Damon needed to know and she wanted to be the one to tell him. Still, it hurts her to have to bring up his brother when it's the first time they've talked in days.

"Ooh," He groans, wincing. He doesn't want to talk about his brother, not with her, but those words freeze him to the core. The last thing he wanted was to upset his brother, so when he asks her; "How'd he take it?" he's crossing his fingers and praying for a miracle.

"How do you think?" She asks.

"Well, I'm thinking for the first time all week I'm happy to be at Camp Nowhere." And he forces a small laugh. He should have known that praying was a bad idea; it wasn't all that often that he got what he wanted.

Elena holds back a smile at his words, knowing she shouldn't really be grinning when discussing her ex-boyfriends current misery, but the sound of his laugh, no matter how forced it may be, makes her immeasurably happy. She feels that...that freedom ignite in her, just for a moment, before the dead-weight pressing against her sternum snubs out the flame.

"How's Jeremy?" She asks, changing the subject to, what she hopes is, safer ground.

"That depends on how much you trust me."

_Stupid question, _she thinks, because she's proved to him on a number of occasions just how much she trusts him. Still, he sounds like he needs some reassurance. She's once again holding back a smile when she replies;

"You know I trust you."

"I think he's going to get through this just fine." Damon says, and she can hear the soft smirk playing on his lips, and she can picture the light shining in his eyes at her appraisal, and it's the most beautiful thing she could ever think of. It strikes at something deep in her core, something untouchable by that weight, something that feels light and free no matter how much the rest of her is being crushed under everything the world is throwing her way.

"Thanks for looking out for him." Elena replies, honestly, because she is thankful for everything he's doing for Jeremy. Everything he's doing for her.

"Yeah, well I told them if they were good I'd buy them both ice cream, so."

And then there's a pause where she just smiles because he's Damon and he's talking to her again and for the first time in a week everything feels right with the world.

"Look, I gotta go."

She gasps before she speaks, because she's not entirely sure what to say, but she needs to make some kind of noise to show him that she's not ready for him to hang up yet. And when words find her again, she says;

"Not yet."

He doesn't know what to do, now. He should hang up, should leave before he says something he'll regret, should hide his phone so that she can't contact him again. But she sounded so soft and unsure and _Elena _that he can't bring himself to do any of those things. He just listens.

"Something happened today." She says, "I realised something about you. About...us."

He feels that pressure on his shoulders pound down then, drilling him into the floor, and he's about to let it because he feels so hopeless in that split second that he wants the earth to just open up and swallow him whole. He's never felt so dizzy in his life. The implication of those words is too horrible to comprehend and he finds himself questioning again whether he should just hang up the phone. But running away from his problems won't fix them, so he stands stock still and waits with baited breath.

"And you can say that it's the sire bond. You know what? Maybe it is, but I'm telling you, it's the most real thing that I have ever felt in my entire life."

She can feel it, that lighter-than-air something fluttering behind her ribcage and it's fighting with all it has to break free. The weight isn't even holding it down, it's something else, and she has a feeling she knows what has to be said to free the humming that's beating so furiously within her chest.

"I love you, Damon."

It bursts within her, filling her from head to toe with a feeling so unique, so earth-shatteringly beautiful that, for a moment, all she can do is stare in wonder as she lets the words sink in. She pictures him on the other end of the phone, mouth open, eyes wide, surprised and disbelieving. So she says it again, to make sure he hears her.

"I love you."

The smile breaks across her face. But even with all of this happiness flooding her entire being, the weight is still there, and it's crushing down harder than ever before. It makes her breath catch but she refuses to let it get the better of her, not when she's this elated.

"Look," Damon says, fighting to draw in a breath. He's too shocked to work his lungs and it's a struggle make his voice heard. "I'm gonna get this cure for you. And I'm gonna have to do things you're not gonna like."

He feels like there's something powerful building within him. It's strong, strong enough to knock him off balance, but he lets his head spin and works through it, knowing what needs to be said. The pressure is bearing down hard, but it feels kind of...right, even though he doesn't understand why.

"Damon-." She starts, her chest aching.

"But listen carefully." He continues, ignoring her protests. The power is churning and it feels like it's building to some kind of crescendo, and he really wishes he knew what that epic explosion of...something is going to be. "Get in your car, right now."

And there it is. The pressure bounces from his body as though her were a spring, and something unnameable fills him with a kind of hope he's never allowed himself to feel before.

"Come to me."

Those words are what do it. The weight in her chest lifts and all the happiness, all the energy that had filled her before increases in intensity, filling a gap she didn't even know was there. She can see him again. He's letting her, despite what he promised Stefan, despite what he thought was right.

"I'll be there soon." She says, a grin spreading itself across her face. Everything feels so much lighter now, like that dead-weight was never even there, and breathing is easier when she knows she'll be seeing his face again soon.

She hangs up the phone and does as told, rushing to the car without the forethought to pack any clothes. She doesn't much care, either. She just wants to see him and hold him and _love him_ with everything she has.

She pulls away from her empty house and heads for home; home to Jeremy, the only family she has left. Home to Matt, the oldest friend she's got. Home to Damon, the man she loves with all her heart.

And she smiles.

He hangs up the phone and drops his arm to his side. She's on her way. He gets to see her again soon. She loves him. She _loves _him. She loves _him. _It's so much to get his head around right now. And then a memory hits him, a memory from not-so-long ago, when he'd sat in the graveyard by himself with a bottle in hand, talking to a rock with a birth date carved into it that he's still pretty sure is wrong. A memory in which he'd told his best friend that he hadn't gotten the girl.

He looks up to the sky, his gaze passing through the branches and the twigs and the leaves and up into the stars, and he thinks to himself;

_I did it, Ric. I got her. _

And he smiles.

**A/N: I blasted this out in like an hour, so I really hope it's okay! **

**Let me know what you thought, okay? **

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**Someone x **


	25. I'm Trying

**A/N: Hey all! So this one-shot is based on the newest episode, 4x11, so spoilers ahead if you haven't seen it yet or whatever. **

**While Damon did fight his compulsion in the episode, I wanted to see him succeed in it, so I wrote this one-shot to explore that a little. Plus we get some comforting! Elena, which we didn't see much of in the episode. Granted, we did get a lot more badassery from Elena, which is always a bonus. **

**But yeah, there you go. **

**Disclaimer; nothing you recognise belongs to me. All rights go to somebody else. **

**Apologies for any spelling and/or grammar mistakes. I love you guys! **

"Damon, stop!"

He paused in his tracks. That voice. His mind was hazy and his limbs were burning, every fibre of him reaching out to rip Jeremy's throat, but her voice broke through the thickness in his ears and the pounding of his heart. His back stiffened under the strain of every muscle.

"Please," Elena begged, "I know that you don't want to hurt Jeremy. So please stop."

He turned on the spot, his brow furrowed but his eyes wide and shining. He had to stop, she was asking him to. And she was right; he didn't want to hurt Jeremy. But everything was telling him that he should, that he had to, and not doing it ached down to the core. He tried to force out an 'okay,' or an 'anything for you' or even just a couple of words to tell her how right she was, but his body protested with a violence that sent a shudder down his spine.

"I can't." Damon growled.

"Yes, you can!" She argued, stepping closer. "You're strong enough to resist the compulsion, I know that you are." There was a thick tone to her voice that told him just how tight her throat was, how close she was to breaking. He turned steely eyes back on Jeremy. A horrible realization hit him, and he felt his stomach drop, defeat settling in.

"Why, because Stefan did?" He hadn't meant to sound so bitter about it, but he couldn't help his tone. His whole body was humming and keeping in control was proving incredibly difficult.

"Because I love you. Because you love me."

"I do love you." He said immediately. His body twisted back to hers, eyeing her with bright blue eyes, shimmering with something she couldn't identify.

"I know." She said softly. She stepped closer again and his body leapt into high alert.

"Don't." He snapped, and she froze. "Don't move." He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. His head was throbbing and it had nothing to do with the bullet he'd taken earlier. The pain was fingering out from the unreachable depths of his brain, as though some great pressure was building and it was sure to burst if he didn't find a way to relieve it.

"You love me," She repeated, "And you would do anything for me._ Please_, do this for me." She whispered. He kept his eyes closed and the pressure built higher still. His body twisted in Jeremy's direction; the smell of the blood, thick with adrenaline; the sound of his heart beating a mile a minute against his ribs; something indiscernible instructing him to tear that heart from his chest. Damon felt the blood rush into his eyes and his jaw ached.

But her voice was still ringing in his ears, keeping his body on hold.

"I'm trying." He mumbled softly, breathing in through his mouth.

"I know." She said again.

"I'm...it's hard." He whispered. That pain in his head was spreading closer and closer to the surface and it was near crippling in its intensity.

"I can't." He panted gently, unconsciously reaching to grip his temples. "I...please don't hate me."

"Damon, you can do this. Come on, you're strong." She was crying now, and Damon wanted to open his eyes, to take her in, to make her stop hurting, but he needed to quell the pain in his head first. The pain that was making his limbs quiver and his whole body shudder.

"I don't want to hurt him." He gritted out, jaw clenched. Elena moved closer and Damon recoiled.

"I know you don't." She murmured. "You don't have to hurt Jeremy."

"I don't have to hurt him." Damon repeated. White light built up behind his closed lids and he cried out, dropping to his knees. In the distance a voice sounded;

"What's happening?" It was muffled and oh-so quiet, but he recognised it as Jeremy and growled out through his teeth.

_I don't have to hurt him. I don't have to hurt him. I don't have to hurt him. _

"Take a breath, Damon." Elena whispered, voice close to his ear. He flinched away. The pain was receding and the excitement returning to his arms and legs, the thrill of the chase flooding his every sense. The scent of the Hunter's blood was filling his nostrils and he couldn't resist breathing it in.

"No, Damon." Elena said quietly, and Damon snarled, eyes flying open and turning on Jeremy. Before he really knew what was happening he had Jeremy's neck in his hands, increasing the pressure under his jaw. Jeremy cried out and behind him he heard Elena screaming, begging him to stop.

"Please!" She sobbed, "Please don't hurt him."

"I don't want to." Damon said. Hot tears escaped his own eyes and fell down his cheeks. "Shoot me." He snapped at Jeremy. "Shoot me now!"

Jeremy pulled the trigger and a blinding pain ignited in Damon's abdomen. He cried out and dropped to his knees. Jeremy scrambled back, eyes wide.

"Not what I had in mind." Damon groaned, pressing his hands to the wound. He dipped his fingers in and tugged out the wood, sighing as the hole began to heal.

"Jeremy, run." Damon panted. "Shoot me in the heart, or run."

Jeremy took off into the woods. Damon snarled angrily, shoving himself to his feet.

"Idiot." He grumbled.

"Damon!" Elena cried. Again, clarity filtered in and Damon twisted 180 to see her. She was sobbing softly and Damon's heart constricted in his chest. "Please," She gasped, "please Damon, don't touch him. Fight this for me."

He wasn't strong enough, he was sure, but there she was, tear-tracks marring her cheeks, her whole body convulsing in angry cries. And he had to try.

He closed his eyes again and focused on the same thoughts over and over again; _I don't want to hurt him. I don't have to hurt him. Elena would hate me, she would hate me. I don't want to hurt him. _

Pain built again from somewhere deep in his brain and he howled out, holding his head in his hands. His knees buckled and he found himself on the floor. The thoughts ran through his brain as though on a conveyor belt and he whispered them under his breath as they came. _I don't have to hurt him. Elena would hate me. _

"I don't want to hurt him."

"I know, Damon. I know." Elena sighed, breath hitching as she fought to control her sobs.

"I don't _have_ to hurt him." Damon growled out the words and the pain was building to a crescendo and he dropped his head forwards onto the floor, crying out his pain.

_I don't have to hurt Jeremy. I don't want to, and I don't have to._

The light behind his lids was too bright but he couldn't force his eyes open, and he focused on those thoughts again and again and then it happened.

The pressure built, and a pain like an elastic band snapping in his brain ricocheted around the inside of his skull. His muscles collapsed and his body gave out, flattening itself against the cold forest floor. He was panting, but the pain was easing.

* * *

"Aah!"

"Come on, it didn't hurt that much!" Klaus said, grinning as he watched his baby brother force himself up off the floor. One of his hands clutched his temple and he frowned. Rebekah dropped her brows too, watching her brother with interest.

"What happened?" She asked him, curious.

"I don't know." Kol growled. The pain in his head was easing, but it had been like nothing he'd ever felt before. It was like a string snapped, spindling out from the center of his mind and only easing when it'd filled his whole being. He voiced the thoughts aloud on a snarl before launching himself from the room. A slow grin spread across Klaus's face.

"Now that's interesting."

* * *

"Damon?" Elena said, worry etched in her tone.

"I'm alright." He replied instinctually. His limbs felt like jelly and his first attempt at raising his body from the ground failed, his chest slamming back into the leaf litter.

"Here, let me help." Elena approached him cautiously and Damon let her pull him upright. He swayed on his feet but she held him in place. When she was sure he was stable she moved to stand in front of him, cupping his jaw in her hands and scanning his face.

The sound of moving air brushed into the clearing and both Damon and Elena turned to see Stefan standing to one side, watching them cautiously. Elena released Damon's face, but stayed close.

"What's going on?" Stefan asked, jamming his hands in his jean pockets. Elena looked to Damon, then back to Stefan, and shrugged.

"I really don't know."

"I need to sit down." Damon said. His voice was thick, but not with tears. He sounded more sickly than anything else. Before Elena could help him he dropped to the floor, steadying himself on his hands. Elena knelt down beside him and brushed his hair from his face.

"You okay?" She said softly. Damon nodded, but his skin was pasty and his eyes unfocused.

"I just need a minute." He replied. The trio remained silent for a while, and every now and then Elena shot nervous glances Stefan's way. He was watching his brother with an expression of complete I-don't-really-give-a-fuck-ery on his face, and that made Elena angry.

"I don't know what the _hell_ just happened," Damon started, lifting his gaze. Elena curled her fingers across the side of his neck and stroked the hair at the back of his head, "But, I don't have the urge to kill Little Gilbert anymore. That's always a bonus."

The sound of moving air caught again, and Stefan vanished from sight. Elena let out a breath and shuffled closer to Damon.

"Sure you're alright?" She asked him. He nodded at her and leaned into her touch, dropping his head onto her shoulder. She kissed his temple.

"I missed you." He mumbled against the side of her neck. He sounded almost grudging when he said it, and Elena smiled. He wouldn't be Damon if he'd gone completely soft on her.

"I missed you too." She said softly.

"Sorry I tried to kill your brother again."

Elena smiled and chuckled softly.

"Actually, as I recall, you succeeded the first time."

"I chose to forget that detail." Damon grunted, pushing himself to his feet. He pulled Elena up with him.

"Now we have to find him." Elena said, puffing air through her lips. Damon nodded and looked around.

"Come on, might as well start at your house."

Damon nudged her on and the pair began to walk through the trees. His head pulsed weakly with every step. The last vestiges of the aches in Damon's limbs and the pain in his head were finally leaving, and as they fell, and with Elena by his side, her hand closed tight in his, they gave way to clear thought for the first time in what seemed like forever.

**A/N: I know it doesn't match up with where the episode left off, but I just wanted to experiment with the effects of compulsion and the strain of fighting it off, and I wanted Damon to end the compulsion on his own terms, not because of Kol's death. And I wanted a bit of Delena cuddly-ness. **

**Anyways, I hope you all enjoyed! Leave me a review and let me know what you thought. **

**Thanks in advance :) **

**Much love, **

**Someone x **


	26. You're Okay

**A/N: Hey all! Okay, this one is was requested by a Guest, whom I wish wasn't a guest so I could let them know that I've filled their prompt, but still! It's based on 3x05, when Damon saved Elena from the hospital. **

**It's just a little something about the car journey between the hospital and the Boarding House. I've had blood loss, and I think Elena should have exhibited a few more symptoms of the trauma she went through, so this is based on my experience, which I have to say was horrible. I wouldn't wish blood loss on anybody. **

**Prepare for comforting Damon and sickly Elena! **

**Disclaimer; I own nothing. Nothing you recognise, at least. **

**Apologies for any spelling and/or grammar mistakes, I didn't proof read it. **

He held her close to his chest as he walked outside. The night air was cool and she shivered in his grasp, curling herself closer into him. Damon twisted his gaze around the parking lot, but there was no sign of the original anywhere. He tightened his grip on her and hurried across the hard ground, every step echoing in his ears. Elena whimpered against his neck.

"It's alright." Damon murmured, voice soft. "I've got you."

He found his car and bent at the knee to open the passenger side door, then deposited Elena on the seat.

"I'm cold." Elena breathed. Damon ran his hands down her arms, smoothing the goose-bumped skin with the warmth of his palms. He reached an arm onto the back seat and pulled out a blanket for her. She nodded in appreciation when he wrapped it around her shivering form, but the move made the pain in her head intensify to near unbearable levels and she stilled.

Damon jogged around the car and clambered into the driver's side, starting the engine and turning on the heat. Elena pressed herself closer into the seat.

He drove a little recklessly, but the distance between the hospital and the Boarding House had never seemed quite so great, and within ten minutes Elena's body was shuddering violently and a sheen of sweat had coated her brow.

Her head was pounding, her heart erratic in her ears. Everything sounded muffled through the haze and her body felt too cold and too hot all at once. Her limbs ached with a heaviness she'd never felt before and she collapsed them, dead-weight, against the seat.

"How you doing there?" Damon's voice floated in, but she couldn't fathom her thoughts into a coherent reply, so she remained silent. "Elena?" She kept her jaw firmly shut, teeth clenched against a wave of nausea that had her stomach rolling. "Come on, answer me." The best she could do was moan in acknowledgement, because she thought she might gag if she opened her mouth.

"Hey," Damon said, and she felt the momentum of the car drop, "you okay?"

"Mm." It was a completely noncommittal noise that was up for interpretation, and Damon clearly didn't take it well because Elena felt the car roll to stop. His door opened, then closed again, and then cold air was blasting on her from one side and a hand cupped under her jaw.

"Open your eyes." Damon instructed, and she did as told. He swam in and out of focus in front of her. He turned her head slowly from side to side, then bent at the knee and knelt down beside her.

"Damon." She whimpered softly. Her face was pale and her stomach was curdling unpleasantly. She didn't even know why she'd said his name, but his face dropped into complete concern and he squeezed her hand.

"You feel sick?" He asked, and she was so thankful he could read her so well.

"Mhm." She nodded, mumbling. Damon stripped the blanket off of her and took her by the elbow, helping her from the car. She stumbled with him willingly, sock-clad feet aching across the asphalt. He stopped when they reached the edge of the road, pulling her into the grass and guiding her to a wall. She rested her elbows on the surface and breathed deeply through her nose. Her brain throbbed in protest.

"Think I'm gonna be sick." She said thickly, leaning her weight on the wall. Damon's hand brushed her hair out of her face and he held it between her shoulder blades.

"Take it easy." Damon instructed. She felt her stomach roll and a tremor spread under her tongue. She gagged and wretched, and after a few dry-heaves her stomach threw a pitiful amount of bile up her throat. She coughed around the taste, and Damon's hand rubbed the middle of her back.

"You done?" Damon asked softly. Elena shrugged, shoulders shaking. Her knees were trembling under her weight and she tried to convey to Damon that they were about to give out on her, but nothing left her throat but a small cry and she collapsed towards the floor. Damon's hands caught her hips and he eased down with her, settling her back against his chest.

"Talk to me." Damon said softly. Elena tried to voice her thoughts, to tell him that she couldn't see anymore, that her extremities felt numb, that her head felt like it might explode, anything to let him know just how bad her situation was, but she couldn't get the words to come.

Damon rearranged her against his body and she felt him move an arm somewhere above her head, and then it came back down again and he was pressing something warm against her lips. It was sticky and coppery and somewhere in the back of her mind she knew what it was and she knew she should drink it, but her throat was no longer co-operating and she couldn't clench the muscles to swallow.

"Come on." Damon said into her ear, and she could hear a hint of desperation behind the instruction. "Drink up."

His other hand came up under her jaw and tipped her head back, and after a moment she felt the slimy liquid slide down her throat. She coughed and lifted her hand to push him away, because the taste was making her feel sick again, but he nudged her away and kept her in place a minute longer.

The world around her slowly came back into focus; vehicles rushing past on the road, Damon's car pulled to one side, engine still running. Damp grass lay beneath her legs and a hard body supported her back. She swallowed around the lingering taste on her tongue. A hand rubbed her lower back gently and she sighed against Damon's soothing touch.

"I'm okay." She said instantly. He relaxed a little and she felt him push her forwards, and then he was standing and she was standing and then they were back in the car, a blanket around her shoulders and the hot air blowing against her sweat-cooled skin.

"You scared me there." Damon said simply, not turning to look at her.

"I'm sorry." She said. Damon shook his head and muttered that she didn't need to be, but it didn't stop her feeling a little guilty.

The car pulled up in front of the Boarding House and Damon, killing the engine, stepped out and slammed his door. Elena pushed hers open with shaky hands, and Damon was right there with her, lifting her from her seat.

"I can walk." She said feebly, but she was thankful he was carrying her anyway. A small smirk graced Damon's lips.

"You're not wearing shoes." He pointed out, and she resigned herself to his grip, sinking into him once again. He carried her down the halls and into the main room where a fire was already blazing in the hearth. He set her down in a chair and she watched the flames as Damon moved around. The sound of glass chinking filled her ears over the crackling of the fire.

"Hey, here's some bourbon. It'll help you forget."

**A/N: And we're back to the episode! I hope this was okay, I just thought Elena was a little too chipper given the amount of blood Klaus took from her. **

**I know it's only short and very rushed, but there you go! Leave me a review and let me know what you think. **

**Thanks in advance :) **

**Much love, **

**Someone x **


	27. Pain Beyond Pain

**A/N: Morning all! Or should I say night, because it's like half nine here. Anyways...this one-shot is based on the events at the end of the last episode (why God why) and the upcoming episode. So, spoiler alert there. **

**Anyways, here we see Damon (semi) comforting Elena after she finds Jeremy. I'm really sorry. It also has some seriously dark undertones with regards to Elena's mind-set. Again I'm sorry. **

**I got the idea for this one from psawyer1, who wrote one about the same thing; go check it out if you haven't already! **

**Oh oh oh, if you aren't already...and if you love me enough...and if you want somewhere where you can ask me questions or get info on updates and things...go follow me on Tumblr and/or Twitter! **

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**Disclaimer; I own nothinggggg. 'Sept my Tumblr and my Twitter accounts ;) **

**Apologies for any spelling and/or grammar mistakes. **

Her whole body hurt.

She'd felt pain; she'd been bitten, she'd be broken, she'd been bruised and beaten and she'd taken her fair share of bumps and scrapes, but nothing compared to this.

It was almost enough to stop her from screaming.

Almost.

She'd never let out such a lamentable wail before. Not when her parents died, not when Jenna died, not when Alaric died. But seeing her brother, her last link to her own humanity – her own _sanity_ – lying lifeless on the cave floor, with the blood on his hands and the wounds on his neck, was too much. The sound that ripped from her throat was enough to make her own ears hurt, and she barely felt the air move before she found herself on her knees at his side. There was _so much blood_.

"Jeremy?" She cried, cradling his head in her hands. She ran trembling fingers through his hair. "You're okay." She whispered. She pressed her lips, damp and shaking, to his temple and fought off the sobs. "You're gonna be fine." Even as she vowed the words she knew they were lies.

She checked for a pulse, because she didn't know what else to do, and she couldn't fight another heart-wrenching scream when she felt nothing. Nothing but cool, still skin. And the screaming wouldn't stop.

She didn't even know what she was saying, but she was sure she was trying to speak, to form real words, and somewhere in the back of her mind she knew she was trying to say 'help.'

She lashed out when she felt hands pull on her shoulders, and her fangs sank deep into somebody's flesh. Stefan let out a sharp howl of pain and pulled himself away, and when he tried advancing again she threatened him with blood-soaked teeth and red-veined eyes.

"Elena..." Stefan eased, and she could hear the edge of pain in his voice. She didn't respond, only buried her head deeper into her brother's hair and squeezed her eyes closed, praying this whole thing was a terrible, terrible dream.

She didn't even realise that she was still screaming, still bouncing her agony off the rocks, until another figure stumbled into the cave. He was holding himself against the cave walls, panting and growling low under his breath at every move, bloody hands scraping against unyielding rock as he forced himself deeper into the cavern. His raven hair, damp with his own blood, fell in front of his eyes and he shook it away as best he could, then stumbled some more when the movement threw him off balance.

When he lifted his head, letting his eyes fall on the scene, he stood up straight, hands dropping to his sides.

"No..." Damon whispered. Elena lifted tear-fogged eyes to meet his and she quieted her sobs at the sight. He was bleeding, the wounds on his neck yet to heal themselves, and he was horrifically pale. But the worst part, the part that stilled and silenced her in its intensity, was the raw _grief_ in his eyes. His face had fallen slack and his crystal blues shone with a sudden onslaught of too many emotions. He didn't have the energy to rush across the expanse, so he pushed away from the wall and made his way, slowly, numbly, towards the broken pair before him.

"Oh, God..." He breathed. He stopped before he reached them, leaving Elena with a modicum of personal space; air in which only she and Jeremy shared. His chest felt far too tight, as though his lungs had swollen to three times their usual size, and his heart was buried deep in the mass. It made it incredibly hard to breathe.

Elena gasped in difficult breaths beside him as she cried, silently now, against Jeremy's temple. Damon's knees gave out, part from grief and part form sheer exhaustion, and he settled himself down on the cold cavern floor.

It took her over an hour to stem the flow of tears, and when she finally did she pulled her face away from Jeremy's and lowered him gently to the ground, brushing his hair from his forehead and leaning over to kiss the death-paled skin. And then her gaze found Damon once more. He was staring a Jeremy with glassy eyes, but when he finally became aware of her movements he wrenched his gaze up to hers. She felt her bottom lip tremble and began worrying it between her teeth.

"Elena." Damon said, and his tone was so soft and so broken that she couldn't keep herself back. She crawled the couple of feet between them and settled beside him, fresh tears filing down her cheeks. He brought a hand up and stroked the blood from her temple with his thumb, then pressed his lips to the broken skin.

"I'm...I'm so sorry." He choked. She could only nod. He shifted a little and pressed his forehead against her temple. Elena closed her eyes and pressed back; it was a simple comfort and in the long-term it would mean nothing, but in the here-and-now it was everything. It was the move that anchored her to the ground and kept her from just turning it all off, from stopping the ache that wouldn't let up.

"Why him? Why Jeremy?" Elena croaked out, her body shaking. Damon tucked himself closer to her, at a loss for what to do. This wasn't his...thing; he wasn't good at comforting and caring.

"I don't know." He whispered. She could feel his breath tickling her cheek and it brought her more comfort than it probably should have. "I don't know."

Neither of them knew how long they sat there, close enough to touch but not close enough to hold, with their eyes slammed closed to shut out the world around them. Damon gathered enough strength to run his fingers down through her hair, hoping the move would provide her something at least akin to comfort.

"Elena," Damon breathed finally. He felt her shift, acknowledging his words. "I...I can't even imagine how..." He really, _really_ didn't know what he was supposed to say here. "What you're going through, and I don't want to pretend I know." He swallowed hard against the lump in his throat. "But you need to go home."

This was enough to have her lifting her head away from his. She eyed him with confusion clouded with hurt.

"Damon-."

"No buts." He breathed, somewhat stern. "You are going to go home, with Stefan, and you're going to take Jeremy, and you can deal with all of this when you get there."

"You're not coming?" She asked. Damon shook his head. More pain hazed her vision.

"I need to stay and sort this mess out."

Elena shook her head vigorously. She grasped his hands in his and squeezed gently.

"No, you can't – I need you – need you with me."

Damon felt a pang of guilt lance through him. He slowly shook his head at her.

"No, you don't. You'll have Caroline and Matt, and...and Stefan will be there. You'll be okay."

Elena's mind buzzed angrily. She couldn't do this without Damon – no way. She could feel a pressure build in her chest, and it was a pain that was oh-so familiar because every time Damon had given her an order – an order she didn't want to comply to – the same weight had pressed into her abdomen, and it only lifted when Damon relinquished his request.

She sat back, resigned, and nodded slowly, wiping every hint of emotion from her face. She was so close, so close to shutting off every little thing she felt, because the whole situation was just _too damn much_. And then a finger hooked itself under her jaw and she lifted her gaze to meet bright blue eyes.

"Hey," He whispered, "I know you're hurting, and I know you...you want it to stop, but I need you to hang on for me, until I get back, okay?"

She knew exactly what he was referring to, what was worrying him, and she promised him quietly that she would hold on, that she wouldn't turn it off, that she would wait for him to come home.

And the pain piled on even more, because she was almost one-hundred per cent certain that she was lying.

**A/N: My god no Jeremy no no no. Please don't hurt me guy's, this one was kind of sad. And I wanted Damon to comfort her more, I did, but I just didn't think he'd really...know how to. If that makes sense. **

**Anyways, let me know what you thought of this one! **

**Thanks in advance, guys. **

**Much love, **

**Someone x **


	28. Once Upon A Time

**A/N: Hi guys! I'm so sorry, it's been ages since I did a chapter for this. And this one is...well, it's sad. Angsty and sad. I tried to write a fluff fic, as a little reprieve, but I just couldn't do it, so this was the result. **

**Spoilers for the most recent episode, and...well, character death. **

**I love you guys so much, and thank you for all the favourites, follows and reviews this story has recieved, I'm overwhelmed. You're awesome. **

**Disclaimer; I own nothing you recognise. The 'Once Upon a Time...' things, is based on something from a book called 'Struck by Lightning'. It's a fantastic book. Go forth and read. **

**Apologies for any spelling and/or grammar mistakes. **

_Once upon a time, there was a girl. _

She had a smile that could light up a room. Hell, she could light up the whole damn planet if she put her mind to it. She was young and vibrant and oh-so beautiful, and she was _loved_. Loved more than anyone in the world. And she loved, with an ease and grace that nobody could rival, and it was strong and loyal and constant.

She wore her heart on her sleeve, even when the first things started to go wrong; when the world started to fall out from under her feet, she held her head high in front of her friends and family and supported those who needed her support.

And at night, when the world slept and the people stopped needing her, she let the tears fall.

But after a couple of months she was back on her feet, out with her friends and slowly pulling her life back into place. She was still sad, understandably, and it still took her longer than usual to sleep at night. But those lost hours before dreams took over, were no longer spent in tears. Instead, she wrote in her journal. She would write about her day, or her week, or her life in general when things were getting hard again, and when that didn't work she'd go to the cemetery.

She would sit with her back against an old gravestone opposite the family plot, and she would talk to the bodies in the ground. She would tell them she missed them, tell them that things were easy or things were hard, tell them that she wasn't always sad anymore and that she felt bad about that, because she shouldn't be allowed to be happy, not yet.

And then she would scoff at herself for talking to a rock in the ground, and she would drag herself up and dust herself off, then head for home and a few hours sleep.

She never knew that there was always somebody listening.

Things slowly started to get better still, when she met a boy and fell in love. It was instant and she questioned, at first, just how much this new love was founded on her sadness and her need. But she clung to it with everything she had, and she built it from the ground up into something huge and fantastic and scenic; something everybody would be jealous of.

He loved her, too, but he didn't question any of it. Not for a moment.

_Once upon a time, there was a girl who wanted to fly. _

People were dying around her, she knew that. She wanted out; she tried to get out. She broke up with the golden boy and she avoided the shadows and the monsters that lurked there. All she wanted was to pack up and leave. She wanted to finish school and go to college, and make something of herself independent of this small-town life that was dragging her deeper and deeper into a pit she didn't think she could climb out of.

But she had a price to pay; she had to live through the final year. She had to keep her friends and family safe from the underbelly that was slowly working its way to the top.

Things were getting complicated. More and more people were working their way into the loop and that meant more and more people were putting themselves at risk. The last thing she wanted was to lose anybody else.

And the more she prayed for their safety, the faster they began slipping through her fingertips.

Isobel.

Jenna.

John.

Alaric.

She lost herself along the way, too. _In more ways than one. _

Everybody could see she was slipping; the guilt was too much, the pain too real, the sadness too overwhelming. Every time things pushed and pushed a little harder, she pushed back a little less.

And one day she snapped.

She did the one thing, the _one thing_ she'd promised herself she'd never do. And it ate at her; picked her to pieces from the inside out until she was left a shell of herself, standing over troubled water and waiting for the sun to rise and take away the pain.

But there would always be somebody there to pull her back from the brink. Always, to offer the help she didn't know she needed. And that day, when the world weighed too much upon her shoulders, that somebody lifted the load and brought her home, where she slept in the sunlight with a smile on her face for the first time in so, so long.

There was a period of bliss, after that. Pure, unadulterated, bliss. And she spent those days in light and laughter and everything was fun and easy, and she didn't need the golden boy and all the glory that came with that relationship, because she'd found something else that made her happy. Somebody else. Those few, sweet days were such a reprieve from the world she lived in, that a part of her wanted to take it all away to a place of her own and stay in this little bubble forever. But reality came crashing down all-together too soon.

It was all stress and tension from there on in. She tried to keep it together, but she was worried about the people she had left, and it was sending her over the edge again. Everything was building to some indefinable crescendo and everybody was on edge; but nobody more than her.

And the straw that finally broke the camel's back? Losing Jeremy.

She couldn't recover from that. It was all too much; all those old feels resurfaced; the still waters stirred and clouded and everything was pulled to the top and it was far too much for her to take.

But she didn't turn it off, like everybody had expected her to. No, instead, she made her way back to the bridge, and she sat on the edge with bare feet dangling over the churning water. It was dark, but the first, red morning light was peeking over the horizon, hinting at the day to come. She'd dropped the ring that made the daylight safe into the water a long time ago, and now, it was a waiting game.

She felt a weight drop down beside her, heard the wood creak, but kept her eyes focused on the light lifting from the ground up in the distance. Her saviour had come; but not to talk her out of her plan. She was resigned to it, and as much as it hurt to let her go, it was what she needed to make the pain stop. Tears were spilt, and only half of them were hers.

He held her hand as they waited for the light to rise, and he told her he loved her, over and over and over again, until her skin began to ache and she rested her head on his shoulder. She blinked against the harsh sun that made her body sizzle and she felt his tears fall into her hair.

He stayed there for hours, after that. Silent tears carved paths down his cheeks as the ashes twirled across the water around him. People came and went; some cried, some blamed him, some said there was nothing they could have done.

And he just watched the ashes blow, some floating down into the water below, settling on the surface and swimming downstream, and some carrying away on the wind.

_Once upon a time, there was a girl who __**flew. **_

**A/N: I am so sorry. **

**Much love, **

**Someone x **


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